THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

RIVERSIDE 

GIFT  OF 

Dr.  Gordon  Watkins 


H.  Howard  Beidleman, 
437ScruceSt.,  SCRANTON,  PA. 


ABRAHAM    LINCOLN. 


TURNING   POINTS 


IN 


SUCCESSFUL   CAREERS 


V 


WILLIAM 


AUTHOR   OF   "SUCCESS   AND   ITS    ACHIEVERS,"    "TACT,    PUSH,    AND    PRINCIPLE,' 
ETC.,    ETC. 


NEW  YORK:  46  EAST  14™  STREET 
THOMAS  Y.   CROWELL  &   COMPANY 

BOSTON:  too  PURCHASE  STREET 


COPYRIGHT,  1805 
BY  THOMAS  Y.  CROWKI.L  &  COMPANY 


TYi'OGRAPHY  i!Y  C.  J.  PETERS  &  SON 
BOSTON 


PREFACE. 


"  THE  chance  of  a  lifetime  comes  to  every  man,"  it  is 
said  ;  and  it  is  probably  true.  The  fact  is  not  so  con- 
spicuous in  commonplace  as  it  is  in  superior  lives.  It 
is  as  true,  however,  in  lives  that  are  failures  as  it  is  in 
those  that  are  a  success.  The  favorable  opportunity 
presents  itself,  and  the  observant  and  aspiring  behold 
and  seize  it,  and  move  on  to  fortune ;  while  the  indiffer- 
ent and  shiftless  let  it  slip,  and  thereby  invite  failure. 
Shakespeare  has  it  thus  :  — 

"  There  is  a  tide  in  the  affairs  of  men, 
Which,  taken  at  the  flood,  leads  on  to  fortune; 
Omitted,  all  the  voyage  of  their  life 
Is  bound  in  shallows,  and  in  miseries. 
On  such  a  full  sea  we  are  now  afloat  ; 
And  we  must  take  the  current  when  it  serves, 
Or  lose  our  ventures." 

It  is  an  interesting  study  to  trace  these  chances  in 
the  lives  of  men  and  women,  and  it  is  instructive  and 
assuring  also.  Certain  traits  of  character  are  indispen- 
sable to  success  in  all  pursuits ;  and  this  study  of  a 
human  life  to  discover  what  the  main  chance  was,  dis- 


iv  PEEFACE. 

closes  the  manner  in  which  these  qualities  multiply 
achievements. 

The  turning-points  are  different  in  different  lives. 
There  are  no  two  exactly  alike  —  a  fact  that  magnifies 
the  value  of  the  study.  Pliny  said,  "  No  man  possesses 
a  genius  so  commanding  that  he  can  attain  eminence, 
unless  a  subject  suited  to  his  talents  should  present  it- 
self, and  an  opportunity  occur  for  their  development." 
Wise  words,  that  express  the  importance  of  knowing  an 
opportunity  when  one  sees  it ! 

In  discussing  the  subject  of  this  volume,  the  following 
facts  appear.  1.  The  turning-point  in  each  career  stud- 
ied. This  is  the  chief  aim  of  the  author,  kept  at  the 
front  from  beginning  to  end.  2.  The  early  life  of  each 
subject  is  traced  somewhat  in  detail,  up  to  the  turning- 
point,  to  make  it  clear  to  the  reader  how  it  was  done. 
3.  Each  life  following  the  turning-point  is  briefly 
sketched,  that  the  successful  conclusion  may  be  con- 
firmed. 4.  Necessarily,  each  career  as  a  whole  appears 
in  abridged  form.  5.  While  it  is  not  the  direct  pur- 
pose to  discuss  the  elements  of  success,  these  naturally 
reveal  themselves  to  the  reader  through  the  method  of 
treatment.  6.  The  prominence  of  knowledge  and  char- 
acter in  the  right  choice  when  the  achiever  approaches 
the  parting  of  the  ways.  Ignorance,  stupidity,  and 
worthlessness  take  the  wrong  way.  7.  The  divine  ele- 
ment in  human  life  is  notably  manifest,  illustrating  the 


PREFACE.  V 

sublime  truth,  "  Man  devisetli  his  own  way,  but  the  Lord 
directetli  his  steps."  The  places  that  the  successful  fill, 
the  results  they  bring  to  pass,  and  the  characters  they 
establish,  all  becoming  one  mighty  factor  in  the  world's 
progress,  are  permeated  with  that  divine,  and  there- 
fore mysterious,  influence  which  compels  the  belief  that 
"  it  is  not  in  man  that  walketh  to  direct  his  steps." 

Dean  Alford  wrote,  "  There  are  moments  which  are 
worth  more  than  years.  A  stray,  unthought-of  five 
minutes  may  contain  the  event  of  a  life.  And  this  all- 
important  moment  —  who  can  tell  when  it  will  be  upon 
us  ?  "  That  is  the  point  of  observation  and  study. 

WILLIAM  M.  THAYEK. 
FRANKLIN,  MASS.,  1894. 


CONTENTS 


DAVID  GLASGOW  FARRAGUT.  PAGE 

The  Rebuke  that  made  Him  Admiral 1 

SALMON  PORTLAND  CHASE. 

The  Failure  that  turned  Him  into  the  Way  of  Greatness        9 

DANIEL  WEBSTER. 

The  Resolution  that  lifted  Him  into  Renown  .     .     .     .17 

LORD  SHAFTESBURY. 

The  Kitchen  Maid  who  guided  Him  to  a  Noble  Life      .       25 

WILLIAM  HENRY  SEWARD. 

The  Spectacle  that  made  Him  a  Foe  to  Slavery    ...      33 

ABRAHAM  LINCOLN. 

The  Life-Sketch  that  inspired  Him  to  excel     ....       42 

HENRY  CLAY. 

The  Friend's  Counsel  that  decided  His  Course     ...      52 

LUCY  LARCOM. 

The  Mill-Girls'  Magazine  that  changed  Her  Pursuit      .      59 

GEORGE  WILLIAM  GUILDS.. 

The  Event  that  caused  Him  to  rise  from  Navy  Boy  to 

Editor 69 

CYRUS  WEST  FIELD. 

The  Turn  the  Atlantic  Cable  gave  to  His  Life      ...       77 

NATHANIEL  BOWDITCH. 

The  Library  that  made  Him  a  Mathematician      ...      83 

ULYSSES  SIMPSON  GRANT. 

The  Call  to  Arms  that  raised  Him  to  His  Niche  ...      92 
vii 


viii  CONTENTS. 

OLIVER  CROMWELL.  PACK 

The  Mother's  Teachings  that  shaped  Ills  Life      .     .     .     102 

JAMES  ABRAM  GAKFIELD. 

The  Malady  that  turned  lliiu  from  Sailor  to  Scholar     .     Ill 

LUCKETIA   MOTT. 

The  Child's  Death  that  determined  Her  Life- Work  .     .     122 

GEOUGE  PEABODY. 

The  Calamity  that  made  Him  a  Banker 131 

JAMES  GILLESPIE  ELAINE. 

The  Choice  of  Journalism  that  led  Him  on  to  Fortune       140 

SIR  JOHN  FRANKLIN. 

The  First  View  of  the  Sea  that  made  Him  a  Navigator      148 

GEORGE  NIXON  BRIGGS. 

The  Fraternal  Act  that  converted  the  Hatter  into  a 

Statesman 155 

SIR  ISAAC  NEWTON. 

The  Kick  from  a  Playmate  that  moved  Him  to  win  .     .     165 

CHARLES  SUMNER. 

The  Providence  that  forced  Him  into  Public  Life      .     .     172 

WILLIAM  WILBERFORCE. 

The  Counsel  for  Charity  that  crowned  Him  a  Philan- 
thropist       181 

ELIZABETH  FRY. 

The  Conversion  that  consecrated  Her  to  Philanthropy  .     188 

GEORGE  WASHINGTON. 

The  Mother's  Tears  that  made  Him  "Father  of  His 

Country" 19(3 

ALEXANDER  WILSON. 

The  Prison  Experience  that  made  the  Weaver  an  Orni- 
thologist    205 

MATTHEW  FONTAINE  MAURY. 

The  Decision  for  a  Seafaring  Life  that  led  to  Greatness    213 


CONTENTS.  ix 

SIR  DAVID  WILKIE.  I'-UJK 

The  Colored  Drawing  that  evoked  the  Painter      .     .     .     219 

ELISIIA  KENT  KANE. 

The  Christian  Hope  that  saved  Him  from  Dishonor       .     225 

HUGH  MILLER. 

The  Advice  of  His  Betrothed  that  raised  Him  from 

Stone-Mason  to  Scholar 234 

MARIA  MITCHELL. 

The  Decision  at  Sixteen  that  assured  the  Astronomer  .     240 

HENRY  WILSON. 

The  Village  Lyceum  that  transformed  the  Cobbler  into 

a  Senator 247 

SAMUEL  FINLEY  BREESE  MORSE. 

The  Remark  that  led  Him  to  invent  the  Telegraph   .     .     257 

DAVID  LIVINGSTONE. 

The  War  in   China  that  forced  Him  to  become  the 

African  Explorer 205 

PETER  COOPER. 

The  Choice  of  a  Business  that  changed  Him  from  a 

"Rolling-Stone"  to  Benefactor 273 

WILLIAM  LEARNED  MARCY. 

The  Teacher's  Wisdom  that  saved   Him  for  Cabinet 

Officer 281 

LELAND  STANFORD. 

The  Railway  Scheme  that  brought  Him  Wealth  and  Fame    288 

MARY  LYON. 

The  Rejected  Offer  of  Marriage  that  laid  the  Foundation 

of  Hoi  yoke  Seminary 296 

HORACE  BRIGIIAM  CLAFLIN. 

The  Choice  between  College  and  the  Store  that  made 

the  Great  Merchant 305 

ALEXANDER  TURNEY  STEWART. 

The  Loan  that  converted  the  Pedagogue  into  a  Merchant 

Prince  .  ,     313 


X  CONTENTS. 

LEIGH  HUNT.  PAGK 

The  Sickness  that  transformed   him   into   a   Literary 

Benefactor • 320 

HELEX  HUNT  JACKSON. 

The  Crushing  Sorrow  that  introduced  Her  to  Authorship    329 

BENJAMIN  WEST. 

The  Friends'  Council  that  voted  Him  a  Painter  ...     338 

BENJAMIN  FRANKLIN. 

The  Rash  Deed  that  was  overruled  to  make  a  Philosopher    346 

CHARLES  DICKENS. 

The  Choice  that  made  Him  a  Great  Writer      ....    356 

.     HARRIET  HOSMER. 

The  Clay-Pit  that  prepared  the  Way  for  the  Sculptor    .     364 

JOHN  KITTO. 

The  Misfortune  that  changed  the  Pauper  to  Biblical 

Scholar ' 372 

THOMAS  CHALMERS. 

The  Sickness  that  gave  to  Scotland  the  Great  Preacher    381 

ROGER  SHERMAN. 

The  Memorandum  that  foreshadowed  the  Lawyer  and 

Statesman 388 

PATRICK  HENRY. 

The  Decision  that  converted  the  Idler  into  the  Orator  .     395 

ELI  WHITNEY. 

The  Conversation  that  led  Him  to  invent  the  Cotton-Gin    403 


I. 

DAVID  GLASGOW  FARRAGUT. 

THE  REBUKE  THAT  MADE  HIM  ADMIRAL. 

ADMIRAL  FARRAGUT  was  one  of  our  most  distin- 
guished naval  officers  during  the  Civil  War.  He  was 
born  at  Campbell's  Station,  near  Knoxville,  Tenn.,  July 
5, 1801.  His  father  was  George  Farragut,  who  emigrated 
to  this  country  in  1776,  and  took  part  in  the  Revolu- 
tionary War.  He  became  an  intimate  friend  and  com- 
panion of  Andrew  Jackson  in  the  Indian  campaigns  of 
1813-1814,  and  was  a  man  of  intelligence,  bravery,  and 
great  force  of  character.  He  was  at  the  head  of  an  ex- 
pedition to  the  Bay  of  Pascagoula  in  1810-1811,  and 
was  foremost  in  securing  from  the  Spaniards  the  disputed 
territory  on  that  coast.  The  report  of  Dr.  Flood,  the 
commissioner,  says,  "At  the  special  request  of  the  in- 
habitants of  Pascagoula,  by  whom  he  is  greatly  beloved, 
I  prevailed  on  sailing-master  George  Farragut  to  accept 
the  commission  of  magistrate." 

His  mother  was  Elizabeth  Shine  of  North  Carolina,  a 
woman  of  sound  common-sense,  intelligent,  affectionate, 
and  a  Christian.  She  was  a  good  mother  and  wife,  a 
good  housekeeper  and  neighbor,  and  a  true  helpmeet  to 
her  husband.  But  she  died  of  yellow  fever  in  New 
Orleans  when  David  was  seven  years  old. 

1 


2  TURNING  POINTS. 

The  loss  of  his  mother  to  David  was  a  serious  one  at 
that  time,  occurring  just  at  the  age  when  he  needed  a 
mother's  tender  care  to  restrain  his  wayward  steps :  it 
was  not  strange  that  he  fell  into  evil  habits.  It  was  a 
frontier  life  that  he  lived,  rough,  wild,  and  perilous. 
He  once  wrote  of  that  period  as  follows :  — 

"  I  remember  that  on  one  occasion,  during  my  father's 
absence,  a  party  of  Indians  came  to  our  house,  which 
was  somewhat  isolated,  when  my  mother,  who  was  a 
brave  and  energetic  woman,  barred  the  door  in  the  most 
effectual  manner,  and  sent  all  of  us  trembling  little  ones 
up  into  the  loft  of  the  barn,  while  she  guarded  the  en- 
trance with  an  axe.  The  savages  attempted  to  parley 
with  her,  but  she  kept  them  at  bay,  until  finally  they  de- 
parted. My  father  arrived  shortly  afterward  with  his 
command  (he  was  a  major  of  cavalry),  and  immediately 
pursued  the  Indians,  and  succeeded  in  overtaking  and 
punishing  them." 

Of  his  first  experience  on  the  water  he  wrote  as 
follows :  "  At  eight  years  of  age  I  accompanied  my 
father  in  a  small  boat  across  Lake  Pontchartrain  during 
a  gale.  It  was  my  first  experience  on  the  salt  water, 
and  I  fervently  hoped  at  that  time  it  would  be  my  last." 
His  father  was  wont  to  take  his  children  at  an  early  age 
across  this  lake  in  bad  weather,  saying,  "Now  is  the 
time  to  conquer  their  fears." 

About  this  time  sailing-master  David  Porter,  father 
of  Commodore  Porter  of  the  Essex,  was  at  the  New 
Orleans  naval  station,  and  he  became  very  ill,  and  was 
taken  into  Farragut's  home  for  better  care.  Here  he 
died  on  the  same  day  that  Mrs.  Farragut  died,  and  their 
funeral  ceremonies  were  performed  together.  This  cir- 


DAVID   GLASGOW  FARRAGUT.  3 

cumstance  established  a  life-long  friendship  between 
George  Farragut  and  DavM  Porter.  The  latter  offered 
to  adopt  one  of  Farragut's  boys,  and  the  lot  fell  to 
David.  He  was  taken  to  Washington,  where  he  was 
put  into  a  school,  the  discipline  of  which  he  stood  in 
sore  need.  Subsequently  he  was  at  school  in  Chester, 
Pa.,  and  Newport,  R.I.  He  was  only  nine  and  a  half 
years  old  when  he  was  made  a  midshipman  in  the  navy. 

For  a  boy  of  his  age  he  did  not  promise  well  for  the 
future.  Evidently  he  had  started  on  the  road  to  ruin. 
He  was  precocious  in  sinful  habits.  He  was  uncouth, 
profane,  and  reckless.  He  was  not  ambitious  to  be  hon- 
orable or  wise.  He  was  content  with  low  associations. 
Such  a  boy  seldom  emerges  into  a  creditable  career. 

We  have  now  reached  the  crisis  of  his  life.  Fortu- 
nately for  him,  he  came  under  his  father's  care  tempo- 
rarily. A  few  years  ago  Admiral  Farragut  gave  the 
following  account  of  his  life,  at  this  crisis,  to  a  gentle- 
man at  Long  Branch ;  and  it  shows  how  a  timely  rebuke 
and  wise  counsel  turned  him  into  a  successful  career. 

"  Would  you  like  to  know  how  I  was  enabled  to  serve 
my  country  ?  "  said  the  admiral  to  his  friend. 

"  Of  course  I  should,"  answered  the  gentleman  ad- 
dressed ;  "  I  should  enjoy  it  hugely." 

"  It  was  all  owing  to  a  resolution  that  I  formed  when 
I  was  ten  years  old,"  continued  the  admiral.  "My 
father  was  sent  to  New  Orleans  with  the  little  navy 
we  had,  to  look  after  the  treason  of  Burr.  I  accom- 
panied him  as  a  cabin-boy.  I  had  some  qualities  that 
I  thought  made  a  man  of  me.  I  could  swear  like  an 
old  salt,  could  drink  as  stiff  a  glass  of  grog  as  if  I  had 
doubled  Cape  Horn,  and  could  smoke  like  a  locomotive. 


4  TURNING  POINTS. 

I  was  great  at  cards,  and  was  fond  of  gambling  in  every 
shape.  At  the  close  of  dinner  one  day,  my  father  turned 
everybody  out  of  the  cabin,  locked  the  door,  and  said 
to  me,  — 

" '  David,  what  do  you  mean  to  be  ? ' 

"  <  I  mean  to  follow  the  sea,'  I  said. 

" ( Follow  the  sea ! '  exclaimed  father ;  '  yes,  be  a  poor, 
miserable,  drunken  sailor  before  the  mast,  kicked  and 
cuffed  about  the  world,  and  die  in  some  fever-hospital  in 
a  foreign  clime.' 

" f  No,  father,'  I  replied ;  '  I  will  tread  the  quarter- 
deck, and  command,  as  you  do.' 

" (  No,  David ;  no  boy  ever  trod  the  quarter-deck  with 
such  principles  as  you  have,  and  such  habits  as  you  ex- 
hibit. You  will  have  to  change  your  whole  course  of 
life  if  you  ever  become  a  man.' 

"  My  father  left  me  and  went  on  deck.  I  was  stunned 
by  the  rebuke,  and  overwhelmed  with  mortification.  '  A 
poor,  miserable,  drunken  sailor  before  the  mast,  kicked 
and  cuffed  about  the  world,  and  die  in  some  fever-hospi- 
tal ! '  That's  my  fate,  is  it  ?  I'll  change  my  life,  and 
I  will  change  it  at  once.  I  will  never  utter  another 
oath,  never  drink  another  drop  of  intoxicating  liquor, 
never  gamble;  and,  as  God  is  my  witness,  I  have  kept 
these  three  vows  to  this  hour.  Shortly  after  I  became 
a  Christian,  and  that  act  settled  my  temporal,  as  it 
settled  my  moral,  destiny." 

That  father's  rebuke  was  just  in  the  nick  of  time. 
Later  on,  it  might  not  have  been  of  the  least  avail.  As 
it  was,  it  turned  him  right  about  face,  and  a  bright,  suc- 
cessful future  was  assured.  From  that  time  he  rose 
rapidly  in  all  that  belongs  to  true  manhood. 


DAVID   GLASGOW  FARRAGUT.  5 

Before  he  was  twelve  years  old  he  was  on  board  the 
Essex  with  Captain  Porter.  When  war  with  England 
was  declared,  in  June,  1812,  the  Essex  was  quickly 
fitted  for  sea,  and  soon  captured  several  prizes.  Young 
Farragut  was  made  prize-master  of  one  of  the  captured 
vessels,  though  not  yet  thirteen  years  of  age,  and  ordered 
to  take  her  to  Valparaiso,  the  captain  to  navigate  her. 
Farragut  was  "  a  little  afraid  of  this  violent-tempered 
old  fellow,"  as  he  confessed  afterwards,  but  took  his 
position  bravely.  On  giving  his  first  order,  the  captain 
flew  into  a  rage  of  passion,  and  declared  that  "  he  had 
no  idea  of  trusting  himself  with  a  damned  nutshell," 
and  rushed  down  below  for  his  pistols.  Farragut  took 
in  the  situation  at  once,  and  assumed  complete  command 
without  flinching,  "called  down  to  the  captain  that  if 
he  came  on  deck  with  his  pistols  he  would  be  thrown 
overboard,"  and  thenceforward  was  master  of  the  ship. 

The  first  battle  in  which  Farragut  engaged  was  with 
the  Phoebe  and  the  Cherub  in  the  harbor  of  Valparaiso, 
March  28,  1814,  before  he  had  passed  his  fourteenth 
birthday.  Of  that  battle  he  wrote,  "  I  performed  the 
duties  of  captain's  aide,  quarter-gunner,  powder-boy,  and, 
in  fact,  did  everything  that  was  required  of  me.  I  shall 
never  forget  the  horrid  impression  made  upon  me  at  the 
sight  of  the  first  man  I  had  ever  seen  killed.  It  stag- 
gered and  sickened  me  at  first ;  but  they  soon  began  to 
fall  around  me  so  fast  that  it  all  appeared  like  a  dream, 
and  produced  no  effect  on  my  nerves.  I  spent  nearly  a 
month  after  the  battle  assisting  the  surgeons  to  care  for 
the  wounded." 

We  have  not  space  to  record'  his  remarkable  career 
from  the  time  he  sailed  for  the  Mediterranean  in  the 


6  TURNING  POINTS. 

Independence,  April,  1815,  to  the  outbreak  of  the  late 
Civil  War  in  1861.  But  those  years  were  crowded  with 
events  in  the  public  service  that  contributed  to  make  his 
life  memorable.  His  youthful  naval  career,  brilliant 
and  heroic,  served  to  distinguish  his  early  and  later  man- 
hood, when  he  made  history  by  the  volume. 

But  when  the  slaveholders  of  the  South  declared  war 
against  the  National  Government,  and  fired  upon  Sumter, 
Farragut  broke  with  the  South,  and  stood  by  the  flag  of 
his  country.  He  had  said  that  if  the  sectional  trouble 
should  be  amicably  arranged,  he  should  remain  with  his 
native  South,  because  his  relatives  were  all  there ;  but 
in  case  of  civil  Avar  he  should  feel  in  duty  bound  to  sup- 
port the  National  Government  that  had  educated  him, 
and  given  him  employment  apd  rank  in  the  naval  ser- 
vice. In  December,  1861,  he  was  summoned  to  Wash- 
ington, whence  he  wrote  to  his  wife,  "  Keep  your  lips 
closed,  and  burn  my  letters,  for  perfect  silence  is  to  be 
observed  —  the  first  injunction  of  the  Secretary.  I  am 
to  have  a  flag  in  the  Gulf,  and  the  rest  depends  upon 
myself.  Keep  calm  and  silent.  I  shall  sail  in  throe 
weeks."  He  sailed  from  Hampton  Roads,  Feb.  2,  1862, 
"in  the  steam  sloop-of-war  Hartford,  nineteen  hundred 
tons,  which  from  that  time  till  the  close  of  the  war  was 
his  flag-ship.  She  had  a  speed,  under  steam  alone,  of 
eight  knots,  or  with  steam  and  sail  combined,  of  eleven 
knots.  She  carried  twenty-two  nine-inch  Dahlgren  guns, 
two  twenty-pounder  Parrots,  and  a  rifled  Sawyer  gun  on 
the  forecastle  ;  and  Farragut  had  her  fore-and-main-tops 
protected  with  boiler  iron,  and  armed  with  howitzers." 

He  sailed  with  the  largest  naval  fleet  that  ever  floated 
the  American  flag  to  capture  New  Orleans.  Gen.  Ben- 


DAVID  GLASGOW  FARRAGUT.  7 

jamin  F.  Butler,  commanding  fifteen  thousand  men, 
sailed  in  transports  to  Ship  Island,  to  co-operate  with 
the  naval  fleet,  and  garrison  the  city  when  it  should  be 
captured.  The  story  of  that  remarkable  expedition  has 
been  told  over  and  over,  with  its  almost  incredible  ex- 
amples of  heroism,  endurance,  and  sacrifice.  The  sur- 
render of  the  city,  and  its  occupancy  by  General  Butler, 
the  raising  of  the  old  flag  amid  the  cheers  of  loyal  men, 
and  the  long  difficult  task  of  holding  it,  and  keeping  it 
clean  and  quiet,  are  matters  upon  which  the  reader  is 
well  posted. 

Farragut  was  anxious  to  turn  the  guns  of  his  victori- 
ous fleet  upon  Mobile.  The  capture  of  its  mighty  forts 
would  destroy  one  source  of  supply  to  the  Confederate 
army,  and  thus  cripple  the  Southern  cause.  But  the 
government  ordered  that  the  Mississippi  River  should  be 
opened  the  whole  length  before  attacking  Mobile.  Ac- 
cordingly, Farragut  co-operated  with  Gen.  N.  P.  Banks 
in  the  siege  of  Port  Hudson,  and  that  stronghold  was 
speedily  captured,  opening  the  Mississippi  from  St. 
Louis  to  New  Orleans. 

Then  Farragut  was  commissioned  rear  admiral,  and 
sailed  for  Mobile,  where  he  made  a  record  brilliant 
beyond  all  former  achievements.  The  defences  of  the 
city  were  of  formidable  character,  and  the  approaches 
thereto  very  difficult  and  perilous.  But  the  great  com- 
mander rose  to  the  occasion.  Lashing  himself  to  the 
rigging  of  his  flag-ship,  that  he  might  have  fair  view 
of  the  battle-scene,  and  command  his  forces  more  in- 
telligently and  readily,  his  fleet  began  the  assault  on 
Aug.  5,  1864,  with  a  vehemence  and  thunder  of  arms 
that  was  a  marvel  to  the  oldest  soldier.  Mounted  in 


8  TURNING  POINTS. 

the  "port  main  rigging,"  above  the  smoke  of  the  ter- 
rible conflict,  the  fearless  warrior  rode  on  in  triumph, 
giving  orders,  expecting  victory,  never  faltering,  until 
that  stronghold  of  treason  was  won. 

Farragut  was  a  religious  man.  He  could  fight  and 
preach.  He  often  preached  to  his  men  on  the  Sabbath, 
as  opportunity  offered.  One  said,  "  When  he  prays,  he 
prays  as  if  all  depended  on  God,  and  when  he  fights,  he 
fights  as  if  all  depended  on  himself."  His  strong  faith 
in  the  final  triumph  of  right  was  an  element  of  his 
success. 

At  the  close  of  the  war  he  was  the  most  distinguished 
and  honored  of  our  naval  officers.  Congress  created  the 
grade  of  admiral  in  1866,  and  the  rank  was  given  to 
Farragut.  The  citizens  of  New  York  City  presented 
him  with  a  fine  residence  and  fifty  thousand  dollars  in 
gold.  And  from  different  parts  of  the  North  he  re- 
ceived valuable  testimonials  of  esteem  and  gratitude. 

He  passed  away  in  1871,  and  his  remains  were  con- 
veyed to  New  York  City,  where  his  burial  was  attended 
by  tens  of  thousands  of  people,  eager  to  pay  their  last, 
sincere  tribute  of  respect  to  the  lamented  hero. 


SALMON  PORTLAND  CUASE. 


II. 

SALMON  PORTLAND  CHASE. 

THE    FAILURE    THAT    TURNED    HIM    INTO    THE    WAY    OF 
GREATNESS. 

ITIIAMAR  CHASE  of  Cornish,  N.H.,  belonged  to  a 
family  of  considerable  note.  He  had  seven  brothers, 
three  of  whom  were  lawyers ;  one  became  a  United  States 
senator ;  two  were  physicians ;  one  was  a  clergyman,  and 
became  a  bishop  of  the  Protestant-Episcopal  Church; 
while  Ithamar  and  another  were  farmers.  Ithamar  had 
eleven  children,  of  whom  Salmon  Portland  was  the 
eighth,  born  Jan.  13,  1808.  Mrs.  Chase,  Salmon's 
mother,  inherited  a  small  property  that  was  invested 
in  a  glass-factory  at  Keene,  N.H.,  to  which  place  the 
family  removed  when  Salmon  was  eight  years  old. 
Soon  after,  Congress  removed  the  tariff  on  glass.  This 
destroyed  the  business ;  and  Mrs.  Chase  lost  every  dollar 
invested  —  an  event  that  made  a  deep  impression  upon 
the  mind  of  Salmon,  and  .accounts  for  some  of  his 
opinions  and  acts  when  he  became  a  statesman. 

This  loss  was  a  serious  one  to  the  family ;  but  far 
less  serious  than  one  that  soon  followed,  —  the  death  of 
Mr.  Chase.  His  decease  imposed  a  heavy  burden  upon 
the  mother,  who  was  a  woman  of  genuine  pioneer  quali- 
ties, true  to  herself,  family,  and  God.  Salmon  was  a 


10  TURNING  POINTS. 

good  scholar,  and  his  mother  desired  that  he  should 
have  the  best  school  opportunities  possible  in  the  cir- 
cumstances. Consequently  he  was  sent  to  the  district 
school,  which  was  in  session  only  a  part  of  the  year, 
and  afterwards  he  attended  the  academy  at  Windsor, 
where  he  made  a  fine  record. 

One  incident  of  his  early  boyhood  should  be  narrated, 
as  it  had  a  decided  influence  in  leading  him  to  think  for 
himself.  It  occurred  when  his  father  was  living,  and 
the  family  were  on  the  farm  at  Cornish.  The  hired 
man  told  him  that  he  could  catch  birds  by  putting  salt 
on  their  tails.  Accepting  the  information  as  correct, 
Salmon  filled  his  pocket  with  salt,  and  started  out  to 
catch  sparrows  or  other  birds.  After  many  vain  attempts 
to  approach  birds  near  enough  to  lodge  salt  on  their  tails, 
he  began  to  think  for  himself.  "If  I  could  get  near 
enough  to  put  salt  on  a  bird's  tail,  I  could  catch  it  with- 
out salt,"  he  said  to  himself  ;  "  the  hired  man  was  fool- 
ing me."  From  that  time  he  ceased  to  believe  everything 
that  was  told  him.  The  experience  may  have  had  an 
influence  to  develop  that  independence  of  thought  and 
action  for  which  he  was  distinguished  in  public  life. 

When  Salmon  was  twelve  years  of  age,  his  uncle, 
Philander  Chase,  who  had  become  a  Methodist  bishop 
in  Ohio,  proposed  that  the  boy  should  come  and  live 
with  him,  promising  to  attend  carefully  to  his  educa- 
tion. That  was  in  1820,  when  Ohio  was  a  wilderness, 
and  a  large  part  of  its  population  dwelt  in  log  houses. 
The  journey  thither  was  of  several  weeks'  duration ;  and 
his  trip  from  Buffalo  to  Cleveland  was  on  the  first 
steamer  that  ever  ran  on  Lake  Erie.  His  brother  Alex- 
ander, and  another  young  man  by  the  name  of  Henry  R. 


SALMON  PORTLAND  CHASE.  11 

Schoolcraft,  who  were  going  West  to  join  General  Cass's 
expedition  into  the  Indian  country,  accompanied  him. 
Schoolcraft  became  the  famous  Indian  Missionary  and 
writer. 

In  his  uncle's  home  Salmon  was  contented  and  happy ; 
and  when  the  bishop  became  president  of  the  Cincinnati 
College,  he  removed  to  Cincinnati  with  him,  and  became 
a  member  of  that  institution.  It  was  very  fortunate  for 
the  aspiring  youth  that  such  facilities  for  intellectual 
improvement  were  provided.  He  studied  with  a  will. 
Indeed,  his  ruling  motto  was,  "  Where  there's  a  will 
there's  a  way."  An  incident  shows  the  mettle  of  the 
boy  at  that  time.  A  mischievous  student  set  fire  to  a 
desk,  which  caused  great  consternation  at  first ;  but  the 
fire  was  readily  subdued,  whereupon  one  of  the  instruc- 
tors began  to  look  for  the  offender,  "Did  you  set  the 
fire,  Smith  ?  "  —  "  No,  sir  !  "  —  "  Do  you  know  who 
did  ?  "  —  "  No,  sir ! "  —  «  Did  you  set  the  fire,  Fisher  ?  " 
—  "No,  sir!"  —  "Do  you  know  who  did?"  —  "No, 
sir ! "  And  thus  he  inquired  until  he  came  to  the  cul- 
prit, who  answered  both  of  his  inquiries  by  an  emphatic 
"  No,  sir ! "  Then  it  was  Chase's  turn,  and  he  wrote 
about  it  as  follows,  many  years  after,  "I  saw  that  I 
had  to  pass  the  ordeal,  and  determined  to  tell  the  truth, 
but  not  to  give  the  name  of  my  classmate,  which  I 
thought  would  be  about  as  mean  as  to  tell  a  lie  would 
be  wrong.  The  question  came,  '  Sophomore  Chase,  did 
you  set  fire  to  the  desk  ? '  —  <  No,  sir  ! '  —  '  Do  you 
know  who  did?'-— 'Yes,  sir!'  —  'Who  was  it?'  —  'I 
shall  not  tell  you,  sir.'  He  said  no  more.  The  case 
went  before  the  faculty,  and  I  heard  was  the  subject 
of  some  discussion,  but  it  was  thought  not  worth  while 
to  prosecute  the  inquiry." 


12  TURNING  POINTS. 

Cincinnati  College  was  discontinued,  for  the  want  of 
funds,  before  Salmon's  fifteenth  birthday,  and  he  was 
transferred  to  Dartmouth,  and  entered  as  a  junior,  and 
was  supported  by  his  mother  who  practised  great  econ- 
omy and  self-denial.  In  his  later  life,  Mr.  Chase  wrote 
thus  about  it,  "  How  little  I  appreciated  my  mother's 
sacrifices ;  and  it  is  sad  to  think,  and  tears  fill  my  eyes 
as  I  do  think,  how  late  comes  true  appreciation  of  them. 
Alas !  how  inadequately,  until  the  beloved  mother  who 
made  them  has  gone  beyond  the  reach  of  its  manifesta- 
tion." He  was  graduated  at  Dartmouth  College,  with 
credit  to  himself,  in  1826,  before  he  was  nineteen  years 
of  age. 

Now  what  should  he  do  ?  Where  should  he  go  ?  He 
decided  to  devote  himself  to  teaching,  and  open  a  "  Clas- 
sical Institute  "  in  the  city  of  Washington.  AVithout  the 
least  suspicion  that  he  was  approaching  a  crisis  in  his 
life,  he  repaired  thither,  and  made  all  necessary  arrange- 
ments for  a  grand  opening.  He  advertised  in  the  National 
Intelligencer  that  his  school  would  open  on  such  a  date, 
and  told  what  golden  opportunities  the  pupils  would 
enjoy,  their  number  being  limited  to  twenty.  But  when 
the  opening  day  arrived,  only  one  scholar  put  in  an 
appearance,  to  the  great  dismay  of  the  principal.  Co- 
lumbus Bonfils  was  the  name  of  the  solitary  pupil  who 
came  to  the  classical  school.  The  enterprise  was  a 
complete  failure ;  and  young  Chase's  heart  would  have 
failed  but  for  his  indomitable  will.  He  abandoned  the 
school  enterprise,  but  he  did  not  abandon  hope.  One 
failure  could  not  suppress  his  invincible  spirit.  Provi- 
dence was  turning  his  life  into  another  channel ;  and,  for 
that  reason,  he  did  not  sit  down  and  cry  over  his  disap- 


SALMON  PORTLAND   CHASE.  13 

pointment.  "I  will  secure  a  government  clerkship," 
he  said ;  and  at  once  he  went  to  his  uncle,  Dudley 
Chase,  then  senator  from  Vermont,  a  friend  and  sup- 
porter of  John  Quincy  Adams,  who  was  president.  He 
asked  him  to  aid  in  getting  a  clerkship,  and  received 
this  reply,  "  I  once  procured  an  office  for  a  nephew  of 
mine,  and  he  was  ruined  by  it.  I  then  determined  I 
would  never  ask  for  another.  I  will  lend  you  fifty  cents 
with  which  to  buy  a  spade,  but  I  cannot  help  you  to  a 
clerkship." 

Another  obstacle,  and  a  large  one  too ;  but  Salmon 
Chase  was  not  the  young  man  to  give  up !  He  looked 
about,  and  soon  found  a  fine  position  as  principal  of 
the  boys'  department  of  "  Plumley's  Select  Classical 
Seminary."  There  were  about  twenty  pupils,  among 
whom  was  Columbus  Bonfils,  the  boy  who  came  to  the 
opening  of  his  "  Classical  Institute."  Sons  of  Henry 
Clay  and  William  Wirt  were  members  of  the  school. 
Wirt  was  a'  member  of  President  Adams's  cabinet,  — 
attorney-general. 

Not  many  months  elapsed  before  Chase  began  to 
realize  what  the  failure  of  his  classical  school  meant. 
He  had  made  the  acquaintance  of  Mr.  Wirt,  the  result 
of  which  was  the  decision  to  study  law  with  him,  and 
enter  the  legal  profession.  Had  his  school  proved  a 
success,  he  would  have  buried  himself  in  a  pedagogue's 
life  ;  whereas,  its  utter  failure  opened  his  way  to  a  great 
public  career. 

Mr.  Chase  was  admitted  to  the  bar  in  Washington  in 
1830,  when  he  was  twenty-two  years  of  age.  He  opened 
a  law-office  immediately  in  Cincinnati,  where  he  rapidly 
built  up  a  business.  From  his  start  in  the  legal  profes- 


14  TURNING  POINTS. 

sion  he  was  unalterably  opposed  to  slavery ;  and  in  Cin- 
cinnati he  had  frequent  opportunities  to  declare  his 
hostility  to  the  curse.  He  defended  fugitive  slaves  who 
were  captured  for  the  purpose  of  returning  them  to 
slavery;  and  his  noble  and  masterly  arguments  were 
accepted  by  thoughtful  citizens.  At  the  close  of  one 
trial,  in  which  he  took  strong  ground  against  the  con- 
stitutionality of  the  law  under  Avhich  the  fugitive  was 
arrested,  and  made  a  powerful  defence,  one  of  the  old- 
est lawyers  in  the  court-room  remarked,  "There  is  a 
promising  young  man  who  has  just  ruined  himself." 
That  old  lawyer  is  so  thoroughly  forgotten  that  there  is 
no  record  of  his  name  or  fame,  while  the  memory  of  the 
youthful  barrister  who  dared  stand  for  the  right  is  fresh 
and  green  after  the  lapse  of  almost  three-fourths  of  a 
century. 

James  G.  Birney  was  a  Southern  slaveholder  whose 
conscience  forced  him  to  manumit  his  slaves,  and  start 
a  publication  in  Cincinnati,  called  The  PKilanthropixt, 
devoted  to  the  anti-slavery  cause.  Pro-slavery  men  grew 
bitter  against  Mr.  Birney 's  enterprise ;  and  in  1836  their 
hostility  culminated  in  a  mob  that  destroyed  the  office, 
threw  the  type  into  the  street,  and  the  printing-press 
into  the  river.  This  outrage  fired  the  heart  of  young 
Chase  to  do  and  dare  more  than  ever  against  the  mon- 
ster wrong  of  slavery.  Birney  was  arrested  for  aiding 
fugitive  slaves  to  obtain  their  freedom,  and  Chase  de- 
fended him  in  his  fearless  and  inimitable  way.  Satis- 
fied, in  1841,  that  neither  of  the  great  political  parties 
dared  to  oppose  slavery,  he  became  one  of  the  foremost 
founders  of  the  Liberty  Party.  He  wrote  the  address, 
in  which  he  showed  himself  to  be  a  prophet,  by  de- 


SALMON  PORTLAND   CHASE.  15 

claring  that  the  great  struggle  with  slavery,  then  going 
on,  would  continue  twenty-five  years,  and  be  brought  to 
a  close  by  a  bloody  war.  When  the  Liberty  Party,  in 
national  convention  at  Buffalo,  N.  Y.,  nominated  James  G. 
Birney  for  president,  Mr.  Chase  prepared  the  "  platform." 
He  presided  over  the  Free-Soil  Convention  in  Buffalo, 
in  1848,  which  nominated  Martin  Van  Buren  for  presi- 
dent, and  Charles  Francis  Adams  for  vice-president. 
In  1849  he  was  elected  to  the  United  States  Senate 
by  a  coalition  of  Democrats  and  Free-Soilers  in  the 
Ohio  Legislature.  Here  he  came  to  the  front  as  one 
of  the  most  gifted  senators,  and  became  known  through- 
out the  land  for  his  powerful  assaults  upon  the  "  Fugi- 
tive Slave  Law,"  "  Missouri  Compromise,"  and  other 
iniquitous  measures. 

In  1855  Mr.  Chase  was  elected  governor  of  Ohio  on 
anti-slavery  grounds ;  and  the  next  year  he  was  renomi- 
nated  by  acclamation,  and  re-elected.  In  1860  he  was 
a  candidate  for  the  presidency  in  the  National  Repub- 
lican Convention  at  Chicago.  He  received  forty-nine 
votes  on  the  first  ballot ;  but  on  the  third  ballot  Mr. 
Lincoln  was  nominated.  Mr.  Lincoln,  in  making  up 
his  cabinet,  appointed  Mr.  Chase  secretary  of  the 
treasury,  .  in  which  office  he  proved  to  be  a  great 
financier.  In  an  interview  with  the  bankers  of  New 
York  he  urged  them  to  take  the  government  loans 
on  such  terms  as  could  be  admitted,  and  said,  "  If 
you  cannot,  I  shall  go  back  to  AVashington  and  issue 
notes  for  circulation  ;  for  it  is  certain  that  the  war  must 
go  on  until  the  rebellion  is  put  down,  if  we  have  to 
put  out  paper  until  it  takes  a  thousand  dollars  to  buy 
a  breakfast. 


16  TURNING  POINTS. 

On  the  death  of  Judge  Roger  B.  Taney,  President 
Lincoln  appointed  Mr.  Chase  chief  justice  of  the  Su- 
preme Court  of  the  United  States,  a  position  for  which 
he  was  remarkably  qualified,  and  which  he  dignified  by 
his  scholarly  and  statesmanlike  bearing.  He  continued 
in  this  office  until  his  death,  which  occurred  May  7, 
1873. 

After  his  decease  Demorest  Lloyd  wrote  of  him,  "  His 
will  was  his  great  power.  This  faculty  in  him  probably 
more  than  any  other  contributed  to  his  success.  It  was 
dominating  and  indomitable.  It  yielded  to  no  man  and 
no  force.  Its  persistency  was  measured  only  by  the 
length  of  the  task  to  be  accomplished,  and  its  firmness 
increased  with  the  weight  of  interests  that  depended 
upon  it;  and  while  it  no  doubt  shortened  his  life,  it 
again  prolonged  it." 

For  more  than  forty  years  after  the  failure  of  his 
classical  school  his  life  was  crowded  with  labors  and 
achievements.  But  for  that  turn  in  his  affairs  our  coun- 
try would  have  lost  the  great  services  of  one  of  its  most 
illustrious  statesmen,  in  the  most  critical  period  of  its 
history. 


DANIEL    WEBSTER. 


DANIEL    WEBSTER.  17 


III. 

DANIEL  WEBSTER. 

THE    RESOLUTION"    THAT    LIFTED    HIM    INTO    RENOWN. 

DANIEL  WEBSTER  was  born  in  Salisbury  (now  Frank- 
lin), KH.,  Jan.  18,  1782.  He  was  a  frail  child,  and  re- 
quired the  best  of  care  to  save  him  from  an  early  death. 
Notwithstanding  his  feeble  constitution,  however,  his 
childhood  foreshadowed  intellectual  power  and  great- 
ness in  manhood.  His  father,  Ebenezer  Webster,  was  a 
farmer,  who  was  forced  to  labor  hard  and  economize  in 
order  to  support  his  family.  But  Daniel  was  so  frail 
that  he  was  not  required  to  labor  much  on  the  farm,  but 
was  advised  to  fish,  hunt,  arid  roam  over  the  woods  and 
fields,  with  the  hope  that  by  and  by  he  would  be  able 
to  apply  himself  to  hard  study.  Daniel's  father  was  a 
strong-minded  man,  sagacious  and  discriminating,  and 
he  saw  that  his  son  was  a  boy  of  superior  talents,  and 
desired,  above  all  things,  that  he  should  enjoy  the  oppor- 
tunity to  cultivate  them. 

Daniel  was  born  in  a  time  that  tried  men's  souls. 
Referring  to  that  period  in  his  manhood,  he  said  in  a 
public  address,  "  It  did  not  happen  to  me,  gentlemen,  to 
be  born  in  a  log  cabin ;  but  my  elder  brothers  and  sisters 
were  born  in  a  log  cabin,  and  raised  amidst  the  snow- 
drifts of  New  Hampshire  at  a  period  so  early  that  when 


18  TURNING  POINTS. 

the  smoke  first  rose  from  its  rude  chimney  and  curled 
over  the  frozen  hills  there  was  no  similar  evidence  of  a 
white  man's  habitation  between  it  and  the  settlements 
on  the  rivers  of  Canada." 

Of  course  school  facilities  were  very  few ;  and  some- 
times it  was  necessary  for  Daniel  to  follow  his  teacher 
about  from  hamlet  to  hamlet,  boarding  away  from  home, 
in  order  to  obtain  any  instruction  at  all.  Books  were 
as  scarce  as  schools  and  teachers ;  but  what  there  were 
in  that  region  Daniel  found  and  read  over  and  over. 
His  was  not  the  ordinary  way  of  reading,  but  he  studied 
books  until  their  contents  were  treasured  in  his  memory. 
Late  in  life  he  said  of  that  time,  "  In  my  boyish  days 
there  were  two  things  I  dearly  loved ;  namely,  reading 
and  playing- — passions  that  did  not  cease  to  struggle 
when  boyhood  was  over.  We  had  so  few  books  that  to 
read  them  once  was  nothing;  we  thought  they  were 
all  to  be  got  by  heart."  The  Bible,  spelling-book,  and 
reader  were  his  familiar  companions  in  childhood.  At 
one  time  a  teacher  offered  a  jack-knife  to  the  pupil  who 
would  commit  to  memory  and  recite  within  a  given 
time  the  greatest  number  of  passages  from  the  Bible. 
When  Daniel's  turn  to  recite  came,  he  arose  and  recited 
chapter  after  chapter,  without  the  least  hesitation,  until 
the  schoolmaster  cried  out,  "  That  is  enough ;  we  have 
not  time  to  hear  the  whole  Bible." 

His  mother  was  a  Christian  woman  of  heroic  temper, 
intelligent,  wise,  and  loving;  and  she  seconded  every 
plan  of  her  husband  to  give  Daniel  as  good  an  educa- 
tion as  possible.  No  sacrifice  was  too  great  for  her  to 
practise  for  Daniel's  sake ;  and  her  Christian  counsels 
fortified  him  against  the  wiles  of  evil  associates  when 
he  went  away  to  school. 


DANIEL    WEBSTER.  19 

A  pocket-handkerchief  came  into  his  possession  in  his 
boyhood,  on  which  was  printed  the  Constitution  of  the 
United  States  in  colors ;  and  he  studied  this  until  every 
article  and  sentence  of  that  noble  instrument  was  com- 
mitted to  memory.  This  early  familiarity  with  our  Con- 
stitution proved  of  great  value  to  him  in  his  future  public 
life. 

Daniel  was  regarded  as  a  sort  of  prodigy  in  the 
neighborhood,  and  people  stood  ready  to  help  him  in 
any  way  they  could.  His  elder  brother,  Ezekiel,  was 
strongly  attached  to  him,  and  favored  every  plan  of 
his  parents  to  send  him  to  college.  Ezekiel  would  tax 
himself  to  the  Titmost  to  favor  Daniel ;  and  the  latter 
often  spoke,  in  his  later  life,  of  this  fraternal  spirit  of 
his  brother ;  and  once  he  told  this  story.  They  were 
together  in  the  barn  one  day,  when  their  father  called 
out,  "  Daniel,  what  are  you  doing  ?  "  —  "  Nothing,"  the 
boy  replied.  "  And  what  are  you  doing,  Ezekiel  ?  "  he 
continued.  "Helping  Daniel,"  was  Ezekiel's  quick  re- 
sponse. Whether  playing,  working,  or  studying,  Eze- 
kiel was  always  helping  Daniel  in  all  possible  ways. 

The  two  brothers  were  permitted  to  attend  a  fair 
together  in  a  neighboring  town,  and  each  was  provided 
with  a  little  money.  They  enjoyed  the  day  very  much; 
and,  on  returning  at  night,  Mrs.  Webster  inquired, 
"  Daniel,  what  have  you  done  with  your  money  ? " 
"  Spent  it,"  answered  Daniel.  "  And  what  have  you 
done  with  yours,  Ezekiel  ?  "  —  "  Lent  it  to  Daniel,"  the 
noble  brother  replied.  A  biographer  of  Webster,  refer- 
ring to  this  incident,  says,  "That  answer  sums  up  the 
story  of  Webster's  home-life  in  childhood.  Every  one 
was  giving  or  lending  to  Daniel  of  their  money,  of  their 


20  TURNING  POINTS. 

time,  their  activity,  their  love,  and  affection.  This  pet- 
ting was  partially  due  to  Webster's  health,  but  it  was 
also  in  great  measure  owing  to  his  nature.  He  was  one 
of  those  rare  and  fortunate  beings  who  without  exer- 
tion draw  to  themselves  the  devotion  of  other  people, 
and  are  always  surrounded  by  men  and  women  eager  to 
do  and  suffer  for  them." 

At  fourteen  years  of  age  Daniel  was  sent  to  the 
Academy  at  Exeter,  N.H.,  where  his  progress  was  phe- 
nomenal. It  was  here  that  he  came  to  a  crisis  in  his  life. 
Declamation  was  one  of  the  exercises  of  the  school ; 
and  every  boy  was  required  to  declaim  once  in  two 
weeks.  Daniel  was  timid,  and  he  shrank  from  this 
trying  ordeal.  Still,  he  had  no  idea  of  getting  excused. 
He  committed  his  piece  to  memory ;  but  when  he  went 
upon  the  platform  to  declaim,  he  could  not  recall  a  word 
of  it.  In  his  great  embarrassment  he  stood  speechless, 
and  finally  retired  completely  discomfited.  Again  he 
made  the  attempt,  and  failed.  Mr.  Buckminster,  the 
principal,  discovered  the  elements  of  an  eloquent  speaker 
in  the  boy,  and  encouraged  him,  in  the  most  sympathetic 
way,  to  persevere.  If  he  could  but  overcome  his  diffi- 
dence, he  felt  siire  that  Daniel  would  lead  the  school  in 
declamation,  as  he  did  in  other  things.  So  he  studied 
and  labored  to  help  the  noble  youth  over  this  difficulty. 

In  his  ripe  manhood  Webster  spoke  of  this  experi- 
ence as  follows :  "  I  believe  that  I  made  tolerable  prog- 
ress in  most  branches  which  I  attended  to  while  a 
member  of  Exeter  Academy;  but  there  was  one  thing 
I  could  not  do  :  I  could  not  make  a  declamation.  I 
could  not  speak  before  the  school.  The  kind  and  ex- 
cellent Buckminster  sought  especially  to  persuade  me 


DANIEL    WEBSTER.  21 

to  perform  the  exercise,  but  I  failed  to  do  it.  Many 
a  piece  did  I  commit  to  memory,  and  recite  and  rehearse 
in  my  own  room  over  and  over  again ;  but  when  the  day 
came,  and  the  school  collected  to  hear  declamations, 
when  my  name  was  called  and  I  went  upon  the  stage, 
every  eye  turned  upon  me,  I  could  not  recollect  a 
word." 

Suppose  Daniel  had  stopped  here,  a  vanquished  stu- 
dent, what  would  the  result  have  been  ?  It  is  probable 
that  he  would  have  completed  his  studies  at  Exeter 
within  two  or  three  terms,  and  returned  to  labor  on 
his  father's  farm.  He  certainly  would  not  have  become 
an  orator  to  sway  listening  senates.  But,  through  the 
wise  counsels  and  kind  sympathy  of  Buckminster,  he 
did  finally  overcome  his  timidity;  and  he  proved  to 
listeners  that  the  spirit  of  true  eloquence  dwelt  within 
his  soul.  It  was  a  mighty  struggle  for  him  to  rise 
above  himself,  and  conquer  a  bashfulness  that  lay  di- 
rectly between  him  and  success ;  but  he  fought  the 
battle,  and  won.  But  for  his  sagacious  and  sympathetic 
teacher  he  might  not  have  attained  unto  that  sublime 
decision,  /  can  and  I  will  —  a  decision  that  is  often  in- 
dispensable to  save  one  from  inevitable  failure. 

That  here  was  the  turning-point  in  Daniel  Webster's 
career  is  still  further  confirmed  by  the  fact  that  in 
Dartmouth  College  he  took  rank  at  once  as  the  best 
declaimer  of  his  class.  He  entered  that  college  af 
fifteen,  and,  through  his  four  years  there,  was  far  supe- 
rior to  all  others  as  an  orator.  At  eighteen  years  of 
age,  when  he  was  junior,  his  fame  was  so  great  as  an 
orator,  that  the  citizens  of  the  town  invited  him  to 
deliver  the  Fourth  of  July  oration.  He  accepted  the 


22  TURNING  POINTS. 

invitation,  and  his  effort  surprised  even  his  most  inti- 
mate friends.  His  oration  was  so  fine  that  a  copy  of  it 
was  requested  by  the  citizens  for  publication ;  and  its  de- 
livery was  regarded  as  the  highest  example  of  eloquence 
to  which  the  people  of  the  town  had  ever  listened. 

He  was  graduated  at  Dartmouth  when  he  was  nine- 
teen, and  for  a  short  time  studied  law  in  the  office  of 
Thomas  W.  Thompson,  in  his  native  town  of  Salisbury. 
But  his  elder  brother,  Ezekiel,  was  now  preparing  for 
college,  and  Daniel  felt  that  he  must  assist  him  to  pay  his 
bills ;  so  he  accepted  the  post  of  teacher  in  the  academy 
at  Fryeburg,  Me.  That  he  might  give  his  entire  salary 
to  Ezekiel  and  his  parents,  he  earned  enough  out  of 
school-hours  to  pay  his  expenses  by  copying  deeds  and 
other  legal  documents.  Concluding  his  labors  at  Frye- 
burg, he  returned  to  Mr.  Thompson's  office,  where  he 
remained  until  he  was  admitted  to  the  bar,  and  opened 
an  office  at  Boscawen,  N.H.  Here  he  remained  until 
his  brother  Ezekiel  was  admitted  to  practice,  when  he 
passed  over  the  office  and  its  lucrative  business  to  him, 
and  opened  an  office  himself  in  Portsmouth,  where, 
within  a  few  years,  he  had  a  large  practice,  and  was 
regarded  as  the  peer  of  Jeremiah  Mason,  one  of  the 
most  renowned  lawyers  in  the  country  at  that  time. 
From  Portsmouth  he  removed  to  Boston  in  1817. 

The  grandeur  of  his  public  life  is  denoted  by  the 
numerous  positions  of  trust  and  power  he  occupied. 
He  was  elected  a  representative  to  the  lower  house  of 
Congress  from  the  Portsmouth,  New  Hampshire,  district 
when  he  lived  there,  and  took  his  seat  in  May,  1813. 
He  was  re-elected  two  years  later ;  and  when  his  second 
term  expired  he  removed  to  Boston,  where  his  law  prac- 


DANIEL    WEBSTER.  23 

tice  yielded  him  an  annual  income  of  twenty  thousand 
dollars  —  the  largest  of  any  lawyer  in  the  country  at 
that  time. 

In  1822  he  was  elected  a  representative  to  Congress 
from  the  Boston  district ;  and  he  continued  a  member 
of  the  House  of  Representatives  until  1827,  when  he 
was  chosen  United  States  senator  from  Massachusetts. 
He  was  re-elected  to  this  office  in  1833,  also  in  1839, 
but  withdrew  from  the  position  in  1841  to  accept  the 
office  of  secretary  of  state  under  President  Harrison. 
John  Tyler  succeeded  to  the  presidency  when  Harrison 
died,  and  Mr.  Webster  continued  to  be  secretary  of 
state,  and  concluded  the  famous  Ashburton  Treaty, 
that  denned  the  north-eastern  boundary  between  the 
United  States  and  Canada.  At  the  close  of  the  admin- 
istration he  retired  to  private  life,  but  in  1845  was 
returned  to  the  United  States  Senate  from  Massachu- 
setts, where  he  remained  through  the  Mexican  War  and 
the  administration  of  President  Taylor.  The  latter  died 
in  1850,  when  Mr.  Fillmore  became  president,  and  again 
Mr.  Webster  was  appointed  secretary  of  state.  He  was 
candidate  for  president  of  the  United  States  in  1840, 
1844,  and  1848. 

We  have  to  do  especially  now,  however,  with  Webster 
as  an  orator,  his  career  on  this  line  being  so  closely  re- 
lated to  his  perseverance  at  Exeter  Academy  in  over- 
coming timidity  on  the  platform.  That  so  bashful  a 
boy  on  the  stage  should  become  the  most  renowned 
orator  of  his  day  is  a  marvel  of  history.  Yet  it  is  no 
more  marvellous  than  thousands  of  other  things  that 
invincible  purpose  has  accomplished.  Demosthenes,  Cur- 
ran,  Disraeli,  not  to  mention  others,  won  by  the  same 


24  TURNING  POINTS. 

indomitable  resolution.  Some  of  his  speeches  in  Con- 
gress, notably  his  reply  to  Haynes,  are  classed  among 
the  greatest  efforts  of  orators,  living  and  dead.  His  so- 
called  Plymouth  oration,  delivered  on  the  two  hundredth 
anniversary  of  the  settlement  of  that  town,  Dec.  22, 
1820 ;  his  Bunker-Hill  oration,  delivered  in  June,  1825 ; 
his  eulogy  on  Adams  and  Jefferson,  spoken  in  Faneuil 
Hall,  Boston,  in  1826 ;  and  his  oration  on  Alexander 
Hamilton,  delivered  at  a  public  dinner  in  New  York, 
are  among  the  grandest  oratorical  efforts  recorded  in  the 
annals  of  time.  His  rich,  melodious  voice,  his  dignified 
and  impressive  bearing,  his  command  of  choice  and 
telling  language,  all  contributed  to  the  witchery  of  his 
eloquence  in  holding  his  hearers  spell-bound. 

Daniel  Webster  died  in  Marshfield,  Mass.,  on  Sunday 
morning,  Oct.  24,  1852,  at  seventy  years  of  age.  A 
short  time  before  he  passed  away,  he  called  his  family 
to  his  bedside,  and  in  his  usual  dignified  and  eloquent 
way  of  using  language,  spoke  to  them  of  his  life  and 
near  departure,  and  their  kindness  and  love ;  of  the 
accountability  of  all  to  God,  and  the  immortality  of 
the  soul.  Then  remaining  silent  with  closed  eyes  for 
a  few  moments,  he  made  another  effort  to  speak,  and, 
looking  up  inquiringly,  he  said,  "  Have  I  —  wife,  son, 
doctor,  friends,  are  you  all  here  ?  —  have.  I  on  this  occa- 
sion said  anything  unworthy  of  Daniel  Webster  ?  "  He 
spoke  but  once  more.  The  solemn  hours  had  passed  on, 
and  the  clock  had  struck  midnight,  and  the  sorrowing 
relatives  and  friends  were  watching  for  the  last  breath, 
when  he  rallied  his  expiring  faculties  for  one  more  utter- 
ance, and  said,  distinctly  and  feelingly,  "  I  STILT,  LIVE." 
These  were  the  last  words  of  this  great  lawyer,  orator, 
and  statesman ! 


LORD   SIIAFTESBURY.  25 


IV. 

LORD   SHAFTESBURY. 

THE    KITCHEN   MAID   WHO   GUIDED   HIM   TO  A   NOBLE   LIFE. 

ANTONY  ASHLEY-COOPER,  known  as  Lord  Shaftesbury, 
was  born  in  London,  April  28, 1801.  His  ancestors  were 
prominent  in  English  history  and  literature,  famous  men 
and  women  on  different  lines.  His  father  was  a  public 
man,  so  thoroughly  engrossed  in  duties  and  cares  that 
he  had  little  time  to  devote  to  his  family.  His  ability, 
efficiency,  and  force  of  character  were  generally  recog- 
nized. His  mother  was  a  fascinating  woman,  rather 
brilliant  in  social  life,  and  so  fond  of  society  that  she 
neglected  her  household.  She  was  what  would  be  called 
now  "  a  society  woman."  Of  course  Antony's  disci- 
pline at  the  fireside  did  not  receive  that  parental  atten- 
tion that  should  have  been  accorded. 

At  the  early  age  of  seven  he  was  sent  to  school  at  the 
Manor  House,. Chiswick,  probably  to  remove  an  encum- 
brance from  a  father  who  wanted  all  his  time  for  public 
business,  and  a  mother  whose  devotion  to  society  life 
left  little  time  or  heart  for  training  her  son.  In  this 
school  he  was  poorly  fed  and  governed ;  and  he  was 
made  miserable  by  the  cruel  treatment  of  the  elder 
pupils.  The  head-master  was  totally  unfit  to  take  charge 
of  such  a  school ;  and  hence  the  government  was  lax, 


26  TURNING  POINTS. 

and  much  insubordination  was  tolerated.  A  more  un- 
fortunate experience  than  Antony's  in  this  institution 
scarcely  ever  fell  to  the  lot  of  a  boy.  He  was  too 
wretched  to  apply  himself  closely  to  study  ;  and  yet  he 
had  no  great  longings  for  home,  whither  he  went  on 
holidays,  though  not  with  much  gladness.  Evidently 
he  never  had  a  strong  affection  for  his  parents.  They 
gave  too  little  attention  to  him  to  awaken  and  cul- 
tivate decided  filial  love  in  his  heart.  A  biisiness- 
loving  father  and  pleasure-loving  mother  are  not  likely 
to  have  a  strong  hold  upon  a  sensitive,  observing, 
and  obedient  boy.  It  is  not  often  that  a  child  is 
placed  in  such  unfavorable  and  even  depressing  cir- 
cumstances. 

And  yet  he  remained  four  years  in  this  school ;  and,  in 
his  manhood,  he  said  they  were  years  of  mental  torture. 
That  he  never  could  revert  to  them  without  experien- 
cing "  a  shudder."  Really  they  were  years  of  no  earthly 
benefit  to  the  boy.  His  intellectual  improvement  was 
extremely  limited ;  and  morally  it  is  a  wonder  that  he 
was  not  ruined. 

In  his  twelfth  year  Antony  was  placed  in  the  family 
of  Dr.  Butler,  at  Harrow.  The  change  was  a  real  joy  to 
him.  Both  mind  and  heart  were  invigorated  and  en- 
couraged by  it.  He  engaged  in  his  studies  with  marked 
interest  and  application,  and  felt  for  the  first  time  that 
in  Dr.  Butler  he  had  a  true  friend  and  teacher. 

It  was  here  that  an  incident  occurred  which  exerted  a 
great  influence  upon  his  future  life.  One  day,  when  he 
was  taking  a  walk,  he  heard  a  great  uproar  of  voices 
near  by,  and  he  hastened  to  learn  the  cause.  In  an 
adjoining  street  he  found  a  party  of  drunken  men,  sing- 


LORD   SHAFTS SBURY.  27 

ing  and  yelling  as  they  were  conveying  a  dead  comrade 
in  a  roughly  made  coffin  to  the  graveyard.  They  were 
wild  with  drink,  as  their  yells  and  drunken  songs  bore 
unmistakable  witness.  On  turning  a  corner  they  acci- 
dentally dropped  the  coffin,  whereupon  they  burst  into 
more  vociferous  yells,  mingled  with  profane  and  foul 
language.  The  scene  was  horrible  to  witness.  Antony 
was  appalled  by  the  spectacle,  and  he  exclaimed,  "  Good 
heavens !  can  this  be  permitted  because  this  man  was 
poor  and  friendless  ?  "  Then  and  there  he  resolved  that, 
if  God  spared  his  life,  he  would  devote  his  powers  to 
the  relief  of  the  poor  and  down-trodden.  The  terrible 
scene  turned  the  current  of  his  being  into  another  and 
wide  channel  of  influence.  And  yet  this  event  was  not 
the  real  turning-point  in  his  career.  But  for  another, 
earlier,  deeper  influence,  he  would  have  been  ruined  in 
the  school  at  Chiswick,  and  no  manhood  been  left  for 
such  a  good  resolve  as  he  made  at  Harrow. 

In  his  father's  family  was  a  faithful  old  servant,  — 
Maria  Millis,  —  whose  love  for  the  child  Antony  was 
next  to  a  mother's.  She  was  a  devoted  Christian 
woman,  bright  enough  to  see  that  if  the  boy  received 
any  moral  instruction  in  that  family,  it  must  be  from 
herself.  Evidently  she  was  moved  to  Christian  sym- 
pathy for  the  child  because  of  parental  neglect,  physi- 
cal as  well  as  moral.  She  devoted  herself  to  him  with 
untiring  interest,  and  the  child's  beart  responded  with 
true  affection.  A  mutual  love  sprang  up  between  them, 
that  was  not  broken  or  modified  until  death  interposed. 

As  soon  as  Antony  could  read,  this  old  servant  led 
him  to  read  the  Bible,  and  she  explained  it  to  him  in  her 
simple  way.  She  taught  him  a  prayer  to  say  night  and 


28  TURNING   POINTS. 

morning,  and  instructed  him  about  behavior.  He  learned 
to  love  the  Bible,  and  found  pleasure  in  reading  it  from 
day  to  day.  His  little  prayer,  too,  became  to  him  an 
essential  part  of  his  daily  life.  Indeed,  in  his  ripe 
years,  he  said  that  he  often  found  himself  repeating 
it  with  great  satisfaction.  No  Christian  parents  ever 
moulded  the  heart  of  a  child  more  thoroughly  than  Maria 
Millis  did  that  of  Antony.  He  was  really  a  Christian 
boy  when  he  became  a  pupil  at  the  Manor  House, 
Chiswick.  There  he  continued  to  read  his  Bible  daily, 
and  to  offer  the  simple  prayer  that  Maria  taught  him. 
But  for  this  he  would  have  been  ruined  in  that  school. 
The  faithful  servant  had  established  such  a  bond  of 
union  between  the  boy  and  herself,  that  he  was  anchored, 
and  could  not  drift.  The  trials  and  temptations  of  even 
so  bad  a  school  had  no  power  to  cause  a  break  between 
Antony  and  his  real  benefactor. 

Before  he  left  Chiswick,  Maria  Millis  died,  plunging 
him  into  deep  sorrow.  She  had  been  to  him  much  more 
than  his  own  mother,  and  his  young  heart  realized  its 
great  loss.  Bitter  tears  he  shed  over  her  death,  resolved 
more  than  ever  to  cherish  her  Christian  counsels,  and 
continue  to  read  the  Bible  and  say  the  daily  prayer  she 
taught  him.  Maria  left  him  her  gold  watch,  and  he 
carried  it  to  the  day  of  his  death.  He  often  made  the 
remark,  "  This  watch  was  given  to  me  by  the  best  friend 
I  ever  had  in  the  world."  He  repeated  this  remark  a 
short  time  before  his  death.  The  fact  shows  that  the 
influence  of  the  family  servant  decided  his  career.  It 
gave  to  the  world  a  great  statesman  and  Christian 
philanthropist. 

We  return  now  to  the  incident  that  so  startled  him, 


LORD   SHAFTESBURY.  29 

and  led  him  to  choose  a  philanthropic  career.  There 
can  be  no  question  that  he  made  this  resolve  in  con- 
sequence of  the  trend  given  to  his  moral  character  in 
childhood.  At  one  time  Maria  presented  him  with  a 
small  sum  of  money,  at  the  same  time  enforcing  her 
previous  instructions  about  kindness  to  others,  the  re- 
.sult  of  which  was  that  he  gave  nearly  the  whole  of  it 
in  charity.  He  recalled  this  fact  in  mature  life,  and 
spoke  of  it  as  having  exerted  a  lifelong  influence  upon 
him.  When  he  saw  the  drunken  men  drop  their  dead 
companion  in  his  coffin,  he  resolved  to  dedicate  his 
future  life  to  suffering  humanity,  because  Maria  Millis 
planted  the  seeds  of  that  noble  resolve  in  his  heart 
before  he  was  six  years  of  age.  It  is  plain  to  see  that 
the  turning-point  in  his  career  was  when  he  was  in  the 
hands  of  the  Christian  servant  as  clay  in  the  hands  of 
the  potter.  Then  it  was  that  he  was  fashioned  into 
"the  impersonation  of  the  philanthropic  spirit  of  the 
nineteenth  century." 

Incidents  of  his  manhood-life  that  follow  will  con- 
firm this  view.  He  became  a  member  of  Parliament 
at  twenty-five  years  of  age,  forming  a  close  friendship 
with  the  Duke  of  Wellington.  From  the  beginning  of 
his  public  career  his  motto  was,  "Do  right,  whatever 
may  come  of  it."  He  wrote  to  a  friend,  on  beginning 
to  discuss  questions  in  Parliament,  "  I  thought  I  must 
make  an  essay,  not  merely  for  party's  sake,  but  for  the 
resuscitation  of  honor  and  British  principle,  with  their 
handmaids  dignity  and  virtue ;  and  if  I  fall,  I  shall  fall 
in  no  ignoble  cause :  but  may  I,  as  I  have  ever  en- 
deavored to  do,  begin  in  God,  and,  having  throughout 
desired  nothing  but  his  glory  and  the  consummation  of 


30  TURNING  POINTS. 

his  word,  conclude  in  the  same,  to  the  advancement 
of  religion  and  the  increase  of  human  happiness." 

His  first  speech  was  made  for  the  improvement  of 
lunatic  asylums.  He  had  visited  asylums  in  London 
and  elsewhere,  and  knew  from  observation  how  sadly 
they  needed  reformation.  They  were  filthy  and  dis- 
orderly, poorly  equipped  and  managed,  and,  worse  than 
all,  the  inmates  were  cruelly  treated.  He  was  almost 
as  much  stirred  over  the  spectacle  as  he  was  when  he 
saw  the  dead  man  borne  to  the  grave  by  drunken  rev- 
ellers. He  resolved  to  remedy  the  evil ;  and  he  did. 
In  1845  two  of  his  bills  became  law ;  one  for  the  Regu- 
lation  of  Lunatic  Asylums,  and  the  other  for  the  Better 
Care  and  Treatment  of  Lunatics  in  England  and  Wales. 
He  was  made  chairman  of  the  Lunacy  Commission  at 
this  time,  and  held  the  office  to  the  close  of  his  life. 
In  view  of  his  success  in  legislation  for  lunatic  asylums 
in  1845,  he  wrote  in  his  diary,  "Most  humbly  and 
heartily  do  I  thank  God  for  my  success.  Such  a  thing 
almost  before  unknown,  that  a  man  without  a  party, 
unsupported  by  anything  private  or  public,  but  God  and 
his  truth,  should  have  overcome  Mammon  and  Moloch, 
and  have  carried  in  one  session  three  such  measures  as 
the  Print-works  Regulation  and  the  two  bills  for  the 
Erection  and  Government  of  Lunatic  Asylums." 

Our  space  will  not  permit  even  an  enumeration  of  the 
legislative  acts  and  philanthropic  enterprises  of  Avhich 
he  was  author.  The  Factory  Act,  whereby  three  hun- 
dred and  fifty  thousand  women  and  young  persons  were 
relieved  at  once ;  the  Children  Employment  Commission ; 
the  Mines  and  Collieries  Bill;  the  Workshops  Regulation 
Act ;  the  Ragged  Schools  Union ;  The  Shoeblack  Brigade ; 


LORD   SHAFTE8BURY.  31 

the  Kef uge  and  Reformatory  Union ;  Bill  for  the  Inspec- 
tion and  Registration  of  Lodging-houses ;  Society  for  the 
Improvement  of  the  Laboring  Classes  —  these  are  among 
the  large  number  of  philanthropic  measures  that  he 
fathered  and  fostered.  In  addition,  there  was  no  mis- 
sionary enterprise,  home  or  foreign,  that  did  not  share 
his  heartiest  support  in  money  and  labor.  From  his 
diary,  a  biographer  quotes  the  following  :  "  India  !  what 
can  I  do  for  your  countless  millions  ?  There  are  two 
things,  —  good  government  and  Christianity.  How  shall 
I  compass  them  ?  I  have  no  influence  as  yet.  If  God 
would  tip  my  tongue  with  fire,  I  might  speak  in  a  voice 
which  would  be  heard  even  at  the  ends  of  the  earth ; 
but  he  knows  best,  and  will  ever  raise  up  his  champions 
to  fight  the  battle  of  immortality." 

Again,  from  his  diary  the  following  shows  the  spirit 
of  the  man  :  "  I  think  a  man's  religion,  if  it  is  worth 
anything,  should  enter  into  every  sphere  of  life,  and 
rule  his  conduct  in  every  relation.  I  have  always  been, 
and,  please  God,  always  shall  be,  an  evangelical  of  the 
evangelicals." 

He  became  interested  in  the  "  Golden  Lane  Mission," 
and,  through  it,  the  London  costermongers  shared  his 
cordial  sympathy.  He  spent  many  social  evenings  with 
them,  and  enrolled  himself  as  a  member  of  their  barrow 
and  donkey  club.  Under  his  counsels  and  efforts  they 
were  greatly  improved,  and  their  donkeys  and  ponies 
were  treated  more  humanely.  The  costermongers  re- 
spected and  loved  him.  On  one  occasion  they  invited 
him  to  their  hall,  where  more  than  a  thousand  gathered. 
In  the  course  of  the  evening  a  fine  donkey,  adorned  with 
ribbons  of  different  colors,  was  led  upon  the  platfoAn, 


32  TURNING   POINTS. 

and  presented  as  a  gift  to  Lord  Shaftesbury.  The  latter 
vacated  the  chair,  approached  the  donkey,  and,  putting 
his  arm  around  the  animal's  neck,  thanked  the  donors 
for  the  gift,  adding,  "  When  I  have  passed  away  from 
this  life,  I  desire  to  have  no  more  said  of  me  than  that 
I  have  done  my  duty,  as  the  poor  donkey  has  done  his, 
with  patience  and  unmurmuring  resignation."  The  don- 
key was  then  led  down  the  steps  of  the  platform,  and 
Lord  Shaftesbury  returned  to  the  chair,  remarking,  "  I 
hope  the  reporters  will  observe,  that  '  the  donkey  having 
vacated  the  chair,  the  place  was  taken  by  Lord  Shaftes- 
bury.' » 

Without  vanity  or  a  feeling  of  superiority  over  the 
humblest  of  his  fellows,  the  lowly  found  him  a  friend, 
and  the  learned  and  great  a  consistent  example. 


WILLIAM  HENRY  SEWARD.  33 


V. 

WILLIAM  HENRY   SEWARD. 

THE    SPECTACLE    THAT    MADE    HIM    A    FOE    TO    SLAVERY. 

WILLIAM  HENRY  SEWARD  was  born  in  Florida,  Orange 
County,  N.Y.,  May  16,  1801.  His  father  was  both  phy- 
sician and  merchant,  a  man  of  considerable  wealth  for 
that  day,  well-educated,  well-posted  on  public  questions, 
and,  of  course,  influential  and  respected.  His  mother 
was  equally  well-qualified  for  her  position  in  the  family 
and  society.  Both  were  the  strong  friends  of  education, 
and  sought  the  best  there  was  for  their  children.  Wil- 
liam loved  school  and  study,  and  was,  in  consequence, 
set  apart  for  a  liberal  education.  After  getting  out  of 
the  common  school  all  the  good  he  could,  he  was  sent 
to  "  Farmer's  Hall  Academy,"  located  at  Goshen,  N.Y. 
Here  he  fitted  for  college,  and  entered  Union  College  at 
Schenectady  when  sixteen  years  of  age. 

Before  entering  college  his  father  gave  him  one  thou- 
sand dollars,  saying,  "  That  will  defray  your  expenses 
for  the  four  years ;  "  to  which  the  son  assented,  as  if  con- 
sidering the  amount  sufficient.  He  took  high  rank  in 
college  as  a  scholar,  and  at  the  close  of  the  first  year 
returned  home  and  spent  his  vacation  with  his  parents. 
As  the  time  for  his  return  to  college  drew  near,  his  father 
discovered  no  special  preparation  for  it,  and  he  said  to 


34  TURNING  POINTS. 

him  one  day,  "  William,  are  you  not  going  back  to  col- 
lege ? "  William  hesitated  for  a  moment,  and  then 
replied,  — 

"  Father,  my  money  is  all  gone." 

"  Your  money  all  gone ! "  exclaimed  the  astonished 
father.  "What!  you  don't  mean  that  you  have  spent 
the  one  thousand  dollars  I  gave  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  that  is  what  I  mean,  father ;  it  is  all  gone," 
the  youth  responded. 

Mr.  Seward  was  fully  aroused  by  this  unexpected 
revelation,  and  he  expressed  his  disapprobation  in  words 
more  emphatic  than  affectionate.  He  severely  castigated 
him  with  his  tongue,  as  a  thoughtless,  disobedient,  and 
extravagant  boy,  unworthy  of  the  family  to  which  he 
belonged ;  and  he  closed  by  declaring  that  he  should  not 
have  another  cent  of  his  property,  but  must  shift  for 
himself. 

William  became  as  excited  as  his  father ;  and  the 
words  that  passed  between  father  and  son  caused  a  seri- 
ous breach.  His  spending  a  thousand  dollars  in  a  single 
college  year  illustrated  the  boy's  character.  He  was 
generous  to  a  fault,  loved  to  dress  in  good  style,  and 
lacked  self-control,  so  that  money  slipped  out  of  his 
fingers  before  he  knew  it.  He  had  no  very  bad  habits, 
did  not  neglect  his  studies,  and  ranked  well  as  a  scholar ; 
but  money  he  could  not  keep. 

AYilliain  decided  in  his  own  mind  what  to  do,  but 
kept  his  plan  a  secret.  He  returned  to  Union  College, 
but  not  to  remain.  One  day  he  was  missing.  He  was 
absent  from  recitation,  also  from  his  room.  Investiga- 
tion proved  that  he  had  run  away ;  but  nobody  knew 
where.  His  apparel,  books,  trunk,  —  all  were  gone ;  evi- 


WILLIAM  HENRY  SEWAED.  35 

dently  lie  graduated  deliberately,  without  waiting  for  a 
degree.  He  went  to  New  York  City,  where  he  shipped 
for  Savannah,  Ga.,  to  find  a  position  as  teacher.  From 
this  city  he  proceeded  by  stage  to  Augusta,  thence  to 
Mount  Zion,  where  his  funds  were  reduced  to  one  dollar 
and  a  half.  On  account  of  his  poverty-stricken  condi- 
tion he  decided  to  walk  to  Eatonton,  the  capital  of 
Putnam  County,  where  a  new  academy  was  about  to 
open.  Here  he  made  application  for  the  position  of 
principal,  and  the  directors  appointed  him  after  a  satis- 
factory examination.  Some  of  the  directors  thought  he 
was  too  young  for  the  office  ;  while  one  of  them  judged, 
from  his  examination,  that  he  must  be  twenty  years  of 
age.  After  the  appointment  the  last-named  director 
approached  him,  saying,  "I  told  the  directors  that  you 
must  be  twenty  years  of  age ;  how  is  it  ?  "  Young 
Seward  frankly  met  the  inquiry,  and  said,  "  I  am 
obliged  to  tell  you  that  I  am  only  seventeen."  The 
director  was  very  much  surprised,  and  seemed  con- 
siderably disappointed,  but  rallied  in  a  moment,  and 
remarked,  "  Well,  we  will  leave  them  to  find  that  out 
for  themselves." 

He  proved  a  popular  and  successful  teacher.  For  six 
months  he  continued  to  be  the  respected  preceptor  of 
the  academy,  believing  all  the  time  that  his  parents  and 
college  faculty  knew  nothing  of  his  whereaboxits ;  nor 
did  he  mean  they  should  until  he  could  command  money 
enough  to  pay  his  way  through  college.  By  this  time 
he  had  come  to  see  that  his  extravagance  in  college  was 
inexcusable,  and  he  had  reached  the  conclusion  that 
henceforth  the  most  rigid  economy  and  untiring  indus- 
try should  mark  his  career. 


36  TURNING  POINTS. 

Six  months  elapsed,  when  the  young  preceptor  re- 
ceived a  letter  from  his  father,  through  the  president 
of  the  United  States  Branch  Bank  at  Savannah.  The 
letter  portrayed  the  deep  sorrow  into  which  the  whole 
family  had  been  plunged  by  his  rash  act  of  running 
away  from  home  and  college ;  and  it  implored  him,  in 
the  most  tender  and  touching  way,  to  return.  Also,  the 
letter  contained  money  to  defray  the  expense  of  his 
return,  and  an  additional  sum  to  liquidate  any  debts  he 
might  have  incurred.  He  replied  to  this  letter  by  mail- 
ing to  his  father  a  copy  of  a  local  paper  in  which  there 
was  an  announcement  that  "William  H.  Seward,  a 
gentleman  of  talents,  educated  at  Union  College,  New 
York,  had  been  duly  appointed  principal  of  the  Union 
Academy."  The  indignation  of  the  senior  Seward  was 
thoroughly  aroused  by  this  intelligence ;  and  he  sat  down 
and  wrote  a  letter  to  the  directors  of  the  institution, 
telling  them  that  their  preceptor  "  was  a  much-indulged- 
son  who  had  absconded  from  Union  College  without  just 
cause  or  provocation,  thereby  disgracing  a  well-acquired 
position,  and  plunging  his  parents  into  profound  shame 
and  grief."  We  have  not  space  to  rehearse  details ;  but 
the  result  of  this  episode  was  that  the  principal  of  Eaton- 
ton  Academy  closed  his  labors  in  the  South,  and  returned 
to  Union  College,  where  he  was  graduated  with  distin- 
guished honors  in  1821. 

The  crisis  of  Seward's  life  omirred  while  he  dwelt 
in  Georgia.  Hitherto  he  had  not  given  attention  to  the 
question  of  slavery.  It  had  been  discussed  at  the  North, 
—  its  curse  and  guilt, — but  his  heart  had  never  been 
moved  by  any  presentation  of  the  subject  to  which  he  had 
listened.  But  in  Georgia  he  was  brought  face  to  face 


WILLIAM  HENUY  SB \VARD.  87 

with  the  institution.  Its  cruelty  and  horror  were  mat- 
ters of  observation.  He  could  not  close  his  eyes  to  the 
inhumanity  of  the  institution..  The  wrongs  of  the  auc- 
tion-block, separating  parents  and  children,  brothers  and 
sisters,  and  husbands  and  wives,  together  with  the  blight 
of  the  system  upon  Southern  prosperity,  and  upon  char- 
acter itself,  stirred  his  soul  to  its  lowest  depths.  What 
he  had  regarded  as  wrong  now  appeared  altogether  in- 
human. The  traffic  in  human  beings  was  a  villanous 
traffic,  without  the  least  justification  or  excuse. 

That  the  horrid  spectacle  of  slavery  in  Georgia  made 
young  Seward  its  uncompromising  and  fearless  foe 
through  his  public  career,  is  confirmed  by  the  fact  that 
he  struck  out  as  an  anti-slavery  man  as  soon  as  he  was 
admitted  to  the  bar  at  twenty-two  years  of  age.  In- 
deed, he  was  not  quite  twenty-three  when  he  took  the 
platform  in  favor  of  John  Quincy  Adams's  election  to 
the  presidency  on  anti-slavery  grounds.  It  was  a  bold 
stroke  for  a  young  man  at  that  day  to  enter  the  lists 
against  the  "  Albany  Regency,"  composed  of  the  leading 
politicians  in  favor  of  Jackson,  a  gang  that  held  the 
State  of  New  York  with  a  merciless  grip.  But  Seward 
was  able  even  then  to  make  a  grand  fight  against  sla- 
very ;  and  he  did,  without  fear  or  favor. 

Subsequently  he  was  married,  and  on  a  wedding  tour 
through  Virginia  his  soul  was  harrowed  still  more  by 
a  spectacle,  which  he  described  as  follows  :  "  A  cloud 
of  dust  was  seen  slowly  coming  down  the  road,  from 
which  proceeded  a  confused  noise  of  moaning,  weep- 
ing, and  shouting.  Presently  reaching  the  gate  of  the 
stable-yard,  it  disclosed  itself.  Ten  naked  little  boys, 
between  six  and  twelve  years  old,  tied  together  two 


38  TURNING  POINTS. 

and  two  by  their  wrists,  were  all  fastened  to  a  long 
rope,  and  followed  by  a  tall,  gaunt  white  man,  who  with 
his  long  lash  whipped  up  the  sad  and  weary  proces- 
sion, drove  it  to  the  horse-trough  to  drink,  and  thence 
to  a  shed,  where  they  lay  down  on  the  ground  and 
sobbed  and  moaned  themselves  to  sleep.  These  were 
children  gathered  up  at  different  plantations  by  the 
trader,  and  were  to  be  driven  down  to  Richmond  to  be 
sold  at  auction  and  taken  South." 

If  Mr.  Seward  needed  anything  more  to  arouse  every 
faculty  of  his  soul  against  such  "  inhumanity  to  man," 
he  found  it  here.  Certain  it  is  that  some  of  the  noblest 
battles  fought  for  the  overthrow  of  slavery  were  fought 
by  him.  At  the  period  in  question  many  public  men 
were  shy  and  timid ;  they  scarcely  dared  to  attack 
slavery  as  "  the  sum  of  all  villanies."  Not  so  with 
Seward,  however.  He  concentrated  all  his  guns  upon 
the  heartless  system,  and  fired.  At  whatever  personal 
cost  to  himself  he  took  the  strong  ground  that  slavery 
was  not  only  wrong  in  itself,  but  it  was  a  cancer  upon 
the  body  politic,  that  would  eat  the  life  out  of  it  in 
time.  He  delivered  many  public  addresses  before  polit- 
ical conventions,  literary  societies,  and  other  assemblies  of 
the  people,  before  he  was  thirty  years  of  age,  and  nowhere 
did  he  flinch  from  attacking  slavery  as  a  crime  and  curse. 

In  1834,  when  he  was  but  thirty-three  years  of  age, 
he  was  nominated  for  governor  of  his  native  State,  but 
was  defeated  by  William  L.  ATarcy,  the  Democratic  can- 
didate. But  in  1838  he  Avas  elected  governor  of  New 
York  bj"  over  ten  thousand  majority,  showing  how 
rapidly  the  anti-slavery  principle  advanced  even  in  such 
a  stronghold  of  Democracy  as  the  Empire  State. 


WILLIAM  HENRY  SEWARD.  39 

When  he  was  governor,  a  Virginia  slave  secreted  him- 
self on  board  a  vessel,  and  escaped  to  New  York.  The 
governor  of  Virginia  demanded  that  the  sailors  on  the 
vessel  should  be  given  up  to  him  for  aiding  the  escape 
of  the  fugitive.  But  Governor  Seward  treated  the  de- 
mand with  the  contempt  it  deserved.  He  said  that 
neither  he  nor  the  laws  of  the  State  over  which  he 
presided  recognized  the  right  of  property  in  man,  so 
that  it  was  in  no  sense  a  crime  to  aid  a  fellow-being  to 
escape  out  of  slavery  into  freedom.  The  defence  of  his 
position  was  regarded  by  thoughtful  citizens  as  masterly 
and  unanswerable.  The  governor  of  Virginia  was  beaten 
in  his  attempt  to  bolster  up  slavery.  The  governor  of 
Georgia  made  a  similar  demand  upon  Governor  Seward, 
and  he  was  beaten  also.  The  anti-slavery  position  of 
Seward  was  impregnable.  In  view  of  these  facts,  one 
of  his  biographers  says,  "In  all  these  cases  Governor 
Seward  maintained  an  attitude  of  calm,  courteous,  but 
immovable  opposition  to  the  claims  of  slavery.  This 
position  he  steadily  maintained  through  all  his  public 
career.  While  he  was  governor  he  proposed  to  extend 
the  right  of  suffrage  to  the  negroes  of  New  York  State ; 
and  this,  with  other  public  utterances,  placed  him  among 
the  foremost  opponents  of  slavery  within  the  Whig 
Party." 

In  1849  Mr.  Seward  was  elected  to  the  United  States 
Senate,  where  he  embraced  the  first  opportunity  to  de- 
clare his  uncompromising  hostility  to  American  slavery. 
He  stirred  up  the  hearts  of  Southerners  almost  to  vio- 
lence, by  asserting  that  "  a  higher  law  than  the  Constitu- 
tion regulates  the  authority  of  Congress  over  the  national 
domain  —  the  law  of  God  and  the  interests  of  humanity." 


40  TURNING  POINTS. 

Southern  senators  were  unused  to  the  introduction  of  the 
divine  law  into  debate,  and  they  denounced  Seward's  re- 
mark as  treason  to  the  Constitution.  Eight  years  later, 
in  a  speech  at  Rochester,  N.Y.,  Mr.  Seward  showed  con- 
clusively to  every  listener,  that  it  was  an  "  irrepressible 
conflict "  in  which  the  nation  was  engaged,  and  that  it 
could  not  possibly  exist  without  becoming  wholly  slave 
or  wholly  free.  This  famous  speech,  known  in  history 
as  the  "  irrepressible  conflict "  speech,  marked  him  as  a 
candidate  for  the  presidency. 

In  1860  Mr.  Seward  appeared  to  be  the  most  prom- 
inent Republican  candidate  for  president  when  the 
national  convention  assembled  at  Chicago.  But  the 
nomination  was  given  to  Abraham  Lincoln,  and  Seward 
became  his  secretary  of  state.  That  two  such  men  as 
Lincoln  and  Seward  should  be  thus  associated  to  save 
the  republic,  in  the  most  critical  period  of  its  history, 
alike  in  radical  sentiment,  patriotism,  and  fearless  devo- 
tion to  right,  was  certainly  providential.  Lincoln  had 
said  that  the  country  cannot  live  "half  slave  and  half 
free ; "  and  Seward  had  said,  "  It  must  become  entirely 
slaveholding  or  non-slaveholding ; "  and  here  they  were 
to  make  it  free  from  ocean  to  ocean,  and  from  the  lakes 
to  the  gulf !  Providence  did  it. 

Mr.  Seward's  administration  as  secretary  of  state  was 
able  and  honorable.  Both  in  home  and  foreign  affairs 
his  wisdom,  patriotism,  and  statesmanship  were  recog- 
nized. At  the  time  Lincoln  was  assassinated,  Mr.  Seward 
was  suffering  in  bed  from  the  effects  of  an  injury.  One 
of  the  conspirators  entered  his  sick  chamber  to  take  his 
life,  where  he  was  confronted  by  the  son  of  the  great 
statesman.  A  struggle  ensued,  in  which  the  son  was 


WILLIAM  HENRY  REWARD.  41 

disabled  and  the  father  badly  wounded.  Both,  however, 
recovered,  and  Mr.  Seward  lived  until  Oct.  10,  1872, 
when  he  died  in  the  city  of  Auburn,  N.Y.  On  the 
marble  monument  that  marks  the  place  of  his  burial, 
is  engraved  this  eulogy:  "HE  WAS  FAITHFUL."  The 
origin  of  these  words  was  as  follow:  — 

A  half-witted  negro  was  arrested  for  murder.  Seward 
had  always  been  wont  to  defend  the  negro  race  gratu- 
itously, whether  fugitive  slaves,  wronged  colored  men, 
or  "  poor  ignorant  darkies ; "  and  so  he  volunteered  his 
services  to  defend  this  colored  criminal,  Freeman.  He 
wrote  about  it,  "This  will  raise  a  storm  of  prejudice 
and  passion  which  will  try  the  fortitude  of  my  friends, 
but  I  shall  do  my  duty ;  I  care  not  whether  I  am  ever 
to  be  forgiven  for  it  or  not."  His  argument  on  the 
occasion,  and  his  plea  for  the  life  of  the  idiotic  culprit, 
were  powerful  beyond  description ;  and  he  closed  with 
the  following  paragraph  :  — 

"  In  due  time,  gentlemen  of  the  jury,  when  I  shall 
have  paid  the  debt  of  nature,  my  remains  will  rest  here 
in  your  midst,  with  those  of  my  kindred  and  neighbors. 
It  is  very  possible  they  may  be  unhonored,  neglected, 
spurned ;  but  perhaps  later,  when  the  passion  and  ex- 
citement which  now  agitate  this  community  shall  have 
passed  away,  some  wandering  stranger,  some  lone  exile, 
some  Indian,  some  negro,  may  erect  over  them  an  humble 
stone,  and  thereon  this  epitaph,  '  He  was  faithful.' " 


42  TUENING  POINTS. 


VI. 

ABRAHAM  LINCOLN. 

THE    LIFE-SKETCH    THAT    INSPIRED    HIM    TO    EXCEL. 

THAT  a  boy  who  lived  in  a  log  cabin  in  the  wilder- 
ness, and  slept  on  the  floor  in  the  loft  until  he  was 
twenty-one  years  old,  should  become  president  of  the 
United  States  is  a  marvel.  There  is  no  record  to 
match  it  anywhere.  There  must  have  been  in  his  af- 
fairs a  "  tide  "  which  he  seized  at  "  the  flood,"  and  was 
swept  on  "  to  fortune."  So  marvellous  a  fact  deserves 
something  more  than  to  be  recorded ;  it  should  be  care- 
fully studied.  This  was  Abraham  Lincoln's  history  in 
a  nutshell. 

Abraham  Lincoln  was  born  in  that  part  of  Hardin 
County,  Kentucky,  which  is  now  embraced  in  La  Rue 
County,  a  few  miles  from  Hodgensville,  on  the  south 
fork  of  Nolin  Creek.  His  father's  name  was  Thomas, 
and  his  mother's  maiden  name  was  Nancy  Hanks.  Her 
uncle  was  Joseph  Hanks,  a  carpenter  of  Elizabethtown, 
Ky.,  with  whom  Thomas  Lincoln  learned  the  trade. 
Here  he  met  the  niece  of  Mr.  Hanks,  and  fell  in  love 
with  her,  and  finally  married  her,  thereby  getting  more 
than  he  bargained  for,  —  a  trade  and  a  wife. 

They  began  housekeeping  in  a  tumble-down  sort  of  a 
cabin,  with  furniture  that  matched  the  rickety  habita- 


ABRAHAM  LINCOLN.  43 

tion.  They  were  both  members  of  the  Baptist  Church, 
virtuous,  kind,  affectionate,  but  uncultivated.  Thomas 
had  never  been  to  school  a  day  in  his  life,  and  he  could 
neither  read  nor  write.  Nancy  had  been  to  school  a 
short  time,  and  could  read  poorly ;  and  she  could  write 
her  name.  So  they  began  wedded  life  with  more  love 
than  learning.  Soon,  however,  she  taught  her  husband 
to  write  his  name. 

In  this  wretched  cabin  Abraham  was  born ;  also  his 
sister  Sarah,  and  Thomas.  Abraham  was  the  second 
born,  and  grew  to  resemble  his  mother  in  several  traits 
of  character  - —  bright,  honest,  brave,  and  reliable.  When 
Abraham  was  four  years  old  his  father  removed  to  a 
more  fertile  location  on  Knob  Creek,  six  miles  from 
Hodgensville.  Here  he  bought  a  farm  and  another 
wretched  cabin  to  live  in,  but,  on  the  whole,  improved 
his  condition.  Still  he  was  poor  as  he  could  well  be; 
and  all  his  neighbors,  for  many  miles  around,  were  poor 
as  he.  Here  Dennis  F.  Hanks  and  John  Duncan  became 
playmates  of  "  Abe." 

Here,  too,  Abraham  and  Sarah  went  to  school  a  while ; 
one  Hezekiah  Biney,  a  new-comer,  being  their  teacher 
in  his  own  cabin,  a  half-mile  distant.  Iliiiey  was  a 
rough,  ignorant  man,  with  scarcely  one  qualification  for 
a  teacher,  even  in  that  wild,  untutored  country.  But  he 
wanted  to  eke  out  a  miserable  subsistence  by  adding  a 
few  dollars  to  his  pitiable  income ;  and  so  he  proposed 
schoolkeeping  as  about  the  only  thing  possible  in  that 
desolate  country.  Parents  accepted  the  proposition  be- 
cause there  was  nothing  better;  and  here  our  young 
hero  began  to  be  a  schoolboy.  Abraham  made  some 
progress  at  this  school  —  he  began  to  read.  A  dilapi- 


44  TURNING  POINTS. 

dated  copy  of  Dillworth's  Spelling-book  was  the  only 
volume  the  two  children  of  Tom  Lincoln  had  between 
them  at  this  Riney  Academy;  and  they  made  good 
use  of  it.  The  brightness  of  the  pupils  was  a  pleasant 
offset  to  the  stupidity  of  the  teacher. 

In  six  weeks,  however,  this  "  pioneer  college  "  gradu- 
ated the  two  Lincoln  children,  and  they  entered  another, 
four  miles  distant,  of  which  one  Hazel  was  president. 
The  chief  reason  for  this  change  of  schools  was  that- 
Hazel  could  teach  penmanship  and  Riney  could  not. 
For  ten  weeks  Abraham  and  his  sister  walked  daily  to 
this  school  and  back,  carrying  their  dinner  of  hoecake, 
neither  missing  a  day  nor  a  dinner.  The  school  was 
taught  in  the  only  log  schoolhouse  in  that  part  of 
Kentucky. 

But  Thomas  Lincoln  desired  to  improve  his  condition. 
Indiana  had  come  into  the  Union  a  free  State,  and  he 
resolved  to  remove  thither  as  soon  as  possible.  He 
knew  that  slavery  was  the  curse  of  Kentucky,  and  he 
would  remove  his  family  away  from  its  demoralizing 
influence.  He  sold  his  farm  for  twenty  dollars  and 
ten  barrels  of  whiskey.  He  demurred  at  first  at  taking 
so  much  of  his  pay  in  whiskey,  but  concluded  that  he 
might  sell  it  in  "  the  land  of  the  free."  Deciding  upon 
the  locality  in  Indiana  where  he  would  settle,  he  con- 
structed a  flatboat,  on  which  he  loaded  the  whiskey, 
carpenters'  tools,  farming-implements,  puncheon  table, 
kettles,  stools,  axes,  etc.,  and  floated  down  the  Rolling 
Fork  into  the  Ohio  River.  He  proceeded  on  his  voyage 
many  miles,  and  was  congratulating  himself  upon  his 
success,  when,  by  some  mishap,  his  boat  upset,  and  his 
whole  cargo  went  to  the  bottom  of  the  river.  Lincoln 


ABRAHAM  LINCOLN.  45 

clung  to  the  boat,  and  several  men  at  work  on  the  bank 
of  the  river  near  by  came  to  his  rescue.  The  boat  was 
secured,  the  river  raked,  and  three  barrels  of  whiskey, 
most  of  the  tools  and  other  articles,  were  recovered. 
The  seven  barrels  of  whiskey  left  in  the  river  would 
harm  no  one,  mixed  with  so  great  a  quantity  of  water. 

Lincoln  proceeded  on  his  trip  to  Thompson's  Ferry, 
Avhere  he  bargained  with  a  man  to  convey  his  goods 
eighteen  miles  into  the  wilderness.  He  gave  the  man 
his  flatboat  for  the  service.  Having  determined  upon 
the  spot  for  a  cabin,  aided  by  two  settlers  who  hailed 
his  coming  with  joy,  he  travelled  home  011  foot,  one 
hundred  miles  across  the  country  —  a  three  days'  jour- 
ney. Hasty  preparations  were  made  to  take  his  family 
to  their  new  home.  Their  household  effects  were  packed 
upon  two  horses  for  conveyance,  on  which,  also,  Mrs. 
Lincoln  and  the  children  took  their  turns  in  riding. 
Seven  days  brought  them  to  the  cabin  of  Mr.  Neale,  a 
half  mile  from  the  spot  selected  for  the  Lincoln  cabin. 
With  the  assistance  of  Mr.  Neale  and  "  Abe  "  the  "  half- 
faced  cabin"  was  soon  ready  for  the  family.  Its  size 
was  sixteen  by  eighteen  feet,  without  a  floor,  one  room, 
and  a  loft  where  all  slept  upon  straw  beds  on  the  floor. 

Here  "  Abe "  really  began  his  pioneer  life ;  for  now 
he  could  chop  with  his  father,  and  hunt  to  supply 
the  larder.  The  forest  abounded  in  game,  —  deer,  wild 
turkey,  and  scores  of  less  important  beasts  and  birds. 
The  cabin  was  between  the  forks  of  Big  Pigeon  and 
Little  Pigeon  Creeks,  one  mile  and  a  half  from  what  is 
now  the  village  of  Gentryville. 

The  family  library  consisted  of  the  Bible,  Catechism, 
and  Dillworth's  Spelling-book,  —  the  three  volumes  that 


46  TURNING  POINTS. 

were  used  in  Kentucky.  In  the  course  of  two  or  three 
years,  however,  Abraham  read  "Pilgrim's  Progress," 
"Robinson  Crusoe,"  and  "^Esop's  Fables,"  loaned  to 
him  by  pioneers  in  the  region  round  about.  "  Abe " 
devoured  books  with  a  relish.  He  was  regarded  as  a 
gifted  boy.  Through  the  long  winter  evenings  he  would 
read  by  the  light  of  the  fire,  sitting  in  the  corner.  He 
could  write  quite  well ;  and  often  wrote  letters  for 
pioneers  who  knew  not  how  to  write. 

There  was  much  immorality  and  drunkenness  in  the 
region  as  the  population  multiplied.  There  were  very 
few  sober  settlers.  Mrs.  Lincoln  had  great  anxiety  for 
"  Abe."  One  day  she  called  his  attention  to  the  evil  of 
intemperance,  and  said,  among  other  things,  "  Men  be- 
come drunkards  because  they  begin  to  drink.  If  you 
never  begin  to  drink,  you  never  will  be  a  drunkard." 
When  Mr.  Lincoln  was  president,  he  explained  to  a 
friend  that  the  reason  he  invariably  declined  the  prof- 
fered wine-cup  was  that  counsel  of  his  mother.  From 
that  day  to  his  death  he  was  a  total  abstainer. 

At  fourteen  "Abe"  was  regarded  as  a  very  remark- 
able boy.  He  had  read  all  the  books  for  miles  around, 
and  wrote  essays  and  poetry  with  much  ability  and  skill. 
He  attended  a  school  kept  by  one  Crawford  several 
months,  and  another  kept  by  one  Swaney  "a  few  weeks. 
All  his  school-days  together,  however,  did  not  amount 
to  more  than  a  year.  In  addition  to  the  books  already 
named,  he  had  read,  at  this  time,  the  life  of  Franklin, 
Weems's  "  Life  of  George  Washington,"  history  of  the 
United  States,  with  others  of  less  importance.  His 
mother  said,  "  Abe  read  every  book  he  could  lay  his  hands 
on ;  and  when  he  came  across  a  passage  that  struck  him, 


ABRAHAM  LINCOLN.  47 

he  would  write  it  down  on  boards  if  he  had  no  paper, 
and  keep  it  there  until  he  did  get  paper.  Then  he  would 
rewrite  it,  look  at  it,  and  repeat  it.  He  had  a  copy-book, 
a  kind  of  scrap-book,  in  which  he  put  down  all  things." 

From  twelve  to  sixteen  he  worked  for  several  pioneers 
within  ten  miles,  farming,  butchering,  teaming,  choring, 
taking  care  of  horses,  running  a  ferry-boat,  and  even 
keeping  store.  One  of  his  employers  said,  "  Abe  will 
do  one  thing  about  as  well  as  another."  He  was  about 
seventeen  when  he  went  to  live  with  a  Mr.  Jones  at 
Gentryville,  who  was  a  Democrat,  and  quite  a  politician. 
He  talked  politics  a  great  deal  with  Abraham,  "  because 
the  boy  knew  so  much ; "  and  the  result  was  that  "  Abe  " 
became  a  Democrat. 

And  now  we  have  reached  the  turning-point  in  his 
career.  Some  time  after  he  closed  his  labors  with  Mr. 
Jones,  a  sketch  of  the  life  of  Henry  Clay,  who  was 
then  a  famous  statesman,  fell  into  his  hands.  He  read 
it  with  the  deepest  interest.  Clay's  early  life,  especially 
when  he  was  known  as  the  "  Mill-boy  of  the  Slashes," 
appealed  directly  to  his  heart.  His  extreme  poverty, 
thirst  for  knowledge,  force  of  character,  and  great  push, 
fairly  charmed  him.  That  a  boy  in  so  humble  circum- 
stances should  become  one  of  the  leading  men  of  the 
land,  by  his  own  unaided  efforts,  filled  him  with  wonder. 
Others  might  do  as  much,  he  thought.  More  than  that, 
the  book  antagonized  his  political  creed.  -He  saw  that 
Jones,  the  Democrat,  was  wrong,  and  Clay,  the  Whig, 
was  right.  The  result  was  that  he  became  a  "  Clay 
Whig,"  and  from  that  day  to  his  death  continued  to 
hold  the  essential  principles  taught  by  that  life  of  Clay. 
Abraham  LincolD  claimed  that  the  impression  made  upon 


48  TURNING   POINTS. 

his  mind  by  reading  Clay's  biography,  gave  color  to  the 
remainder  of  his  life.  It  inspired  within  him  the  desire 
to  go  up  higher;  and  he  did.  Many  and  serious  obsta- 
cles interposed,  but  he  overcame  them  in  time ;  studied 
law,  and  entered  upon  the  practice  of  his  profession  at 
Springfield,  111. 

The  life  of  Clay  settled  his  views  of  liberty,  if  they 
were  not  settled  before.  His  views  were  confirmed  by 
his  flatboat  expedition  to  New  Orleans  two  years  there- 
after, where  he  was  shocked  by  the  inhumanity  of 
slavery.  In  consequence,  his  early  political  life  was 
characterized  by  unqualified  hostility  to  American  sla- 
very ;  and  it  was  on  that  ground  that  he  was  first  sent 
to  the  State  Legislature,  and  afterwards  to  Congress. 
Finally,  it  wras  in  consequence  of  his  able  and  grand 
championship  of  freedom  that  he  was  elected  president 
of  the  United  States,  when  slavery  threatened  to  over- 
throw the  republic.  His  wise  and  patriotic  services 
to  save  the  Union  magnify  the  agency  of  the  book  in 
question  to  inspire  his  soul  with  better  and  nobler  ideas 
than  the  political  career  of  his  old  employer,  Jones, 
had  done. 

Mr.  Lincoln  became  president  in  the  darkest  hour  our 
country  ever  saw ;  and  he  had  on  his  hands  the  most 
difficult  and  momentous  work  ever  imposed  upon  mortal 
man,  —  that  of  saving  the  republic.  Six  weeks  after 
entering  the  White  House,  the  South  declared  war 
against  the  national  government  by  firing  upon  Suinter. 
Mr.  Lincoln  had  said  to  the  enemies  of  the  government, 
in  the  closing  paragraph  of  his  inaugural  address,  what 
has  passed  into  history  as  one  of  the  most  tender  and 
touching  appeals  ever  dropped  from  human  lips :  — 


ABEAHAM  LINCOLN.  49 

"  In  your  hands,  my  dissatisfied  fellow-countrymen, 
and  not  in  mine,  is  the  momentous  issue  of  civil  war. 
The  government  will  not  assail  you.  You  can  have  no  con- 
flict without  being  yourselves  the  aggressors.  You  have 
no  oath  registered  in  heaven  to  destroy  the  government ; 
while  I  shall  have  the  most  solemn  one  to  preserve,  pro- 
tect, and  defend  it.  I  am  loath  to  close.  We  are  not 
enemies,  but  friends.  We  must  not  be  enemies.  Though 
passion  may  be  strained,  it  must  not  break  our  bonds  of 
affection.  The  mystic  chords  of  memory,  stretching 
from  every  battlefield  and  patriot  grave  to  every  living 
heart  and  hearthstone  all  over  this  broad  land,  will  yet 
swell  the  chorus  of  the  Union  when  again  touched,  as 
surely  they  will  be,  by  the  better  angels  of  our  nature." 

It  is  not  our  purpose  to  follow  Mr.  Lincoln's  able 
administration  to  the  collapse  of  the  Rebellion  and  the 
fall  of  Richmond,  culminating  in  the  safety  of  the  re- 
public, after  four  years  of  unparalleled  conflict.  It  was 
a  gigantic  effort,  and  God  crowned  it  with  success.  And 
while  the  people  of  the  North  were  celebrating  the  great 
victory  with  music,  banners,  bonfires,  artillery,  and  illu- 
minations, presenting  such  a  spectacle  of  delight  as  had 
not  been  witnessed  since  the  surrender  of  Cornwallis  at 
Yorktown,  slavery,  maddened  by  defeat,  shot  down  the 
president  by  the  hand  of  the  assassin  Booth.  From  the 
height  of  joy,  the  nation  was  plunged  to  the  depths  of 
sorrow.  The  popular  heart  sunk  under  the  burden  of 
grief.  Strong  men  wept  as  they  went  about  the  streets. 
Marts  of  trade  were  turned  to  houses  of  mourning.  Com- 
merce stood  silent  and  forlorn  in  its  tracks.  Neither 
rich  nor  poor  had  hearts  to  work  or  traffic.  Sorrow  was 
universal.  Tears  fell  like  rain. 


50  TURNING  POINTS. 

The  colored  people  of  the  South,  who  were  freed 
by  Mr.  Lincoln's  Proclamation  of  Emancipation,  cried 
like  children  who  are  left  fatherless.  Going  about  the 
streets,  or  gathering  in  their  places  of  worship,  they 
moaned  and  sobbed  in  the  most  pitiable  manner,  calling 
upon  God  to  help  them  in  their  unparalleled  grief. 

Speaker  Colfax  said  of  this  martyred  president,  "  Of 
this  noble-hearted  man,  so  full  of  genial  impulses,  so 
self-forgetful,  so  utterly  unselfish,  so  pure  and  gentle 
and  good,  who  lived  for  us  and  at  last  died  for  us,  I 
feel  how  inadequate  I  am  to  portray  his  manifold  excel- 
lence, his  intellectual  worth,  his  generous  character,  his 
fervid  patriotism.  Murdered,  coffined,  buried,  he  will 
live  with  those  few  immortal  names  who  were  not  born 
to  die ;  live  as  the  father  of  the  faithful  in  the  time 
that  tried  men's  souls ;  live  in  the  grateful  hearts  of 
the  dark-browed  race  he  lifted  from  under  the  heel  of 
the  oppressor  to  the  dignity  of  freedom  and  manhood ; 
live  in  every  bereaved  circle  which  has  given  father, 
husband,  son,  or  friend,  to  die,  as  he  did,  for  his  coun- 
try; live  with  the  glorious  company  of  martyrs  to 
liberty,  justice,  and  humanity,  that  trio  of  heaven- 
born  principles ;  live  in  the  love  of  all  beneath  the  cir- 
cuit of  the  sun  who  loath  tyranny,  slavery,  and  wrong." 

Bishop  Simpson's  eloquent  eulogy  at  the  funeral  closed 
ivith  the  following  :  — 

"  Chieftain,  farewell  !  The  nation  mourns  thee. 
Mothers  shall  teach  thy  name  to  their  lisping  chil- 
dren. The  youth  of  our  land  shall  emulate  thy  vir- 
tues. Statesmen  shall  study  thy  record,  and  learn 
lessons  of  wisdom.  Mute  though  thy  lips  be,  yet  they 
still  speak.  Hushed  is  thy  voice,  but  its  echoes  of 


ABE  AH  AM  LINCOLN.  51 

liberty  are  ringing  through  the  world  ;  and  the  sons 
of  bondage  listen  with  joy.  Prisoned  thou  art  in 
death,  and  yet  thou  art  marching  abroad,  and  chains 
and  manacles  are  bursting  at  thy  touch.  Thou  didst 
fall  not  for  thyself.  The  assassin  had  no  hate  for 
thee.  Our  hearts  were  aimed  at,  our  national  life  was 
sought.  We  crown  thee  as  our  martyr,  and  humanity 
enthrones  thee  as  her  triumphant  son.  Hero,  martyr, 
friend,  farewell ! " 


52  TURNING  POINTS. 


VII. 

HENRY  CLAY. 

THE  FRIEND'S  COUNSEL  THAT  DECIDED  HIS  COURSE. 

OVER  a  hundred  years  ago  there  lived  a  boy  in  Han- 
over County,  Virginia,  who  was  called,  "The  Mill  Boy 
of  the  Slashes."  This  appellation  was  given  to  him 
because  he  was  wont  to  carry  grists  to  mill  on  the 
back  of  the  old  family  horse ;  and  the  route  was  through 
a  swampy  region  which  the  people  called  "  Slashes." 
It  was  Daricott's  mill,  on  the  Pamunkey  River,  to 
which  this  enterprising  lad  often  went  with  a  grist. 
It  required  much  meal  for  a  family  of  seven  boys  and 
girls,  especially  when  hoecake  was  the  chief  article  of 
diet. 

The  boy's  name  was  Henry  Clay,  born  April  12, 
1777.  His  father,  who  was  a  Baptist  minister,  died 
when  Henry  was  four  years  of  age,  leaving  the  family 
in  very  poor  circumstances.  In  consequence,  Henry 
was  obliged  to  work  upon  the  land  very  early  in  life. 
His  services  were  indispensable  to  the  subsistence  of 
the  household,  and  he  cheerfully  yielded  to  the  neces- 
sity. His  mother  was  a  woman  of  decided  executive 
ability,  and  spared  not  herself  to  rear  her  children  in 
a  thoughtful,  Christian  way.  Henry  was  a  true  mother- 
boy.  Nothing  that  he  could  do  was  too  much  to  be  done 


HENRY    CLAY. 


HENRY  CLAY.  53 

for  her.  He  would  sacrifice  play  and  sport  any  time  to 
assist  her.  Hence,  he  was  willing  to  face  the  great  trial 
of  taking  a  place  in  the  retail  store  of  Richard  Denny  in 
Richmond  when  he  was  about  ten  years  old.  By  this 
arrangement  Mrs.  Clay  would  receive  more  aid  from 
the  labors  of  her  son  than  by  any  other  plan.  Henry 
had  attended  school  long  enough  to  learn  to  read  and 
write  very  well,  and  acquire  considerable  knowledge 
of  arithmetic  and  geography  for  one  of  his  age.  He 
hacl  a  thirst  for  knowledge,  and  was  in  the  habit  of 
reading  and  studying  whenever  he  had  leisure  time  out 
of  school.  He  was  regarded  as  a  boy  of  high  promise, 
abundantly  qualified  by  nature  to  do  something  more 
than  till  the  soil. 

Henry  served  in  the  Richmond  store  until  he  was 
fourteen  years  of  age,  proving  himself  an  efficient,  in- 
dustrious, aspiring  boy.  In  1792  his  mother  married 
Mr.  Henry  Watkins,  and  a  few  months  thereafter  re- 
moved to  Woodford  County,  Kentucky.  Mr.  Watkins 
admired  Henry  as  much  as  he  did  his  mother,  and  inter- 
ested himself  in  his  future  welfare.  Regarding  him  as 
a  youth  of  fine  talents,  he  thought  that  a  change  of 
occupation  would  be  to  his  advantage.  The  clerk  of 
the  High  Court  of  Chancery,  Mr.  Peter  Tinsley,  needed 
an  assistant ;  and  Mr.  Watkins  suggested  that  it  was  just 
the  place  for  Henry,  as  his  talents  would  find  there  a 
larger  field  to  range.  He  was  placed  in  this  office  before 
his  mother  removed  to  Kentucky.  In  one  of  his  last 
speeches  Mr.  Clay  referred  to  himself  at  this  period  of 
his  life,  as  "  being  left  without  guardian,  without  pecu- 
niary means  of  support,  to  steer  his  course  as  he  might 
or  could." 


54  TURNING  POINTS. 

Realizing  now  the  deficiency  of  his  education,  he  re- 
solved to  improve  every  leisure  moment  in  the  best  pos- 
sible manner.  He  thoughtfully  considered  what  books 
he  could  read  and  study  with  the  largest  benefit,  and 
selected  them  accordingly.  His  thirst  for  knowledge 
increased  with  his  closer  application.  The  more  he 
learned  the  more  he  wanted  to  know.  The  value  of 
knowledge  increased,  in  his  estimation,  as  he  advanced 
higher  and  higher.  And  the  more  he  increased  in 
mental  power,  the  more  valuable  he  became  to  his 
employer. 

Here  look  for  a  change.  The  venerable  Chancellor 
Wythe  was  frequently  in  the  office  of  Mr.  Tinsley  on 
official  business.  He  observed  the  efficiency  of  the 
young  clerk,  and  was  much  impressed  by  his  intelli- 
gent, manly  bearing.  For  one  so  young  he  thought 
Henry  was  an  uncommon  youth,  and  prophesied  an 
honorable  future  for  him.  He  conversed  with  him 
about  his  aims  and  preferences.  He  advised  him  in 
regard  to  systematic  reading,  and  the  best  use  of  his 
spare  moments.  Finally  he  advised  him  to  study  law, 
and  fit  himself  for  a  legal  practitioner.  Henry  accepted 
the  chancellor's  counsel,  after  reflecting  upon  it  for  a 
while,  and  turned  his  attention  directly,  and  with  all 
-his  heart,  to  preparation  for  his  chosen  profession.  To 
his  dying  day  Henry  Clay  cherished  the  memory  of 
Chancellor  Wythe,  almost  with  filial  tenderness,  for  his 
timely  counsel,  without  which  he  might  have  lived  un- 
known and  unhonored. 

In  November,  1797,  Henry  was  licensed  by  the  judges 
of  the  Court  of  Appeals  to  practise  law.  He  was  only 
twenty  years  of  age  at  the  time,  a  tall,  thin,  awkward, 


HENRY  CLAY.  55 

beardless  youth,  but  remarkably  bright  and  enterprising. 
For  some  reason  he  decided  to  commence  his  profes- 
sional life  in  Lexington,  Ky.,  although  many  friends 
advised  him  to  enter  upon  his  professional  life  in  Rich- 
mond. He  applied  himself  closely  to  studies  connected 
with  his  profession,  after  opening  his  office  in  Lexing- 
ton, being  determined  to  excel  in  his  pursuit  if  possible. 
Thinking  that  his  ability  to  handle  questions  of  law 
might  be  improved  by  debate,  he  joined  the  town  lyceum. 
But  his  extreme  modesty,  amounting  really  to  bashful- 
ness,  kept  him  a  silent  member,  until  one  night  the 
president  called  him  out.  Under  much  embarrassment 
he  arose,  and  began  by  saying,  "Gentlemen  of  the  jury." 
At  once  realizing  his  mistake,  and  noting  the  real  sym- 
pathy of  the  audience  with  him  in  his  embarrassed  state 
of  mind,  he  rallied,  and  warmed  up  as  he  went  on,  until 
the  delighted  audience  hung  upon  his  lips  as  if  listen- 
ing to  a  young  Demosthenes.  He  closed,  and  took  his 
seat  amid  thundering  applause,  and  afterwards  was  over- 
whelmed with  the  congratulations  of  admiring  friends. 

Contrary  to  his  Own  expectations  he  immediately 
"  rushed  into  a  lucrative  practice,"  the  reason  of  which 
may  be  found  in  the  following  words  of  a  biographer : 
"  He  was  even  then  one  of  the  most  fluent  and  eloquent 
speakers  that  ever  addressed  a  jury.  He  had  a  most 
musical  voice,  a  captivating  address,  and  a  power  of 
appealing  to  the  passions  and  sympathies  of  those  he 
sought  to  move,  which  rarely  failed  to  insure  success. 
His  personal  character  was  of  the  noblest  stamp  ;  frank 
and  generous  to  a  fault,  ardent  in  his  attachments,  sin- 
cere, in  all  he  said  and  did,  scorning  with  his  whole  soul 
even  a  trick  or  an  unworthy  act,  and  cordially  despising 


56  TURNING  POINTS. 

the  man  who  could  be  guilty  of  either,  he  bore  about 
him  that  deportment  and  dignity  which  demanded  as 
his  right,  and  always  secured,  the  perfect  confidence 
of  every  man  with  whom  he  came  in  contact.  He  was 
quick  to  detect  the  workings  of  the  minds  of  others, 
and  prompt  to  take  advantage  of  any  bias,  however 
slight,  in  favor  of  the  cause  he  had  espoused.  These 
qualities  placed  him  far  in  advance  of  his  eldest  breth- 
ren at  the  bar  in  the  conduct  especially  of  criminal 
cases,  where  the  issue  depended  rather  upon  the  judg- 
ment and  feelings  of  a  jury  than  upon  the  cooler  and 
more  independent  decision  of  the  court." 

While  yet  a  young  man  Mr.  Clay  was  sought  as 
counsel  in  the  most  important  criminal  cases  of  his 
day.  He  was  a  fine  orator,  a  wise  and  able  legal  ad- 
viser, a  discriminating  and  earnest  pleader  at  the  bar, 
with  remarkable  influence  over  a  jury  in  consequence 
of  his  pathos,  sincerity,  and  impassioned  eloquence. 
He  was  brought  into  contact  with  such  able  barristers 
as  John  Breckenridge,  Felix  Grundy,  George  Nicolas, 
James  Hughes,  and  William  Murray;  and  yet  he  was 
a  greater  power  in  the  court-room,  on  the  whole,  than 
either  one  of  them.  Political  questions  interested  him 
from  the  start;  and  he  became  a  member  of  the  Ken- 
tucky legislature  when  he  was  twenty-six  years  of  age. 
Before  that  year  closed  he  was  appointed  by  the  gover- 
nor to  fill  an  unexpired  term  h*  the  United  States 
Senate;  the  yoxingest  man,  without  doubt,  who  ever 
occupied  a  seat  in  that  body. 

At  the  time  he  took  up  his  residence  in  Kentucky, 
the  question  of  a  new  constitution  for  the  State  was 
under  discussion  by  the  people.  In  due  time  a  con- 


HENRY  CLAY.  57 

vention  for  that  purpose  was  called,  and  Clay  was  a 
member.  He  had  always  felt  that  slavery  was  wrong, 
and  a  curse,  and  always  expressed  his  views  freely  and 
fearlessly.  In  the  convention  he  took  strong  ground 
to  make  the  State  free,  wiping  out  the  last  vestige 
of  slavery.  He  stood  alone  in  his  defence  of  universal 
freedom,  and  boldly  contended  for  the  right,  although 
he  knew  that  his  reputation  would  suffer,  and  that 
slavery  would  continue  to  be  supported  by  the  consti- 
tution. But  he  was  wont  to  stand  squarely  by  his  con- 
victions, at  whatever  personal  cost  to  himself ;  and  so  he 
stood  for  liberty  in  the  constitution  of  the  old  slave 
State.  For  this  reason  he  was  called  a  "  Southern  man 
with  Northern  principles."  He  once  remarked,  when 
a  candidate  for  the  presidency,  "I  had  rather  be  right 
than  president." 

Under  the  "  Southern  code  "  of  his  day,  duelling  was 
justified  and  practised;  and  twice  Mr.  Clay  accepted 
challenges,  evidently  against  his  convictions  of  what 
was  right.  For  he  wrote,  "  I  owe  it  to  the  community 
to  say  that  whatever  I  may  have  done,  or  by  inevitable 
circumstances  might  be  forced  to  do,  no  man  in  it  holds 
in  deeper  abhorrence  than  I  do  that  pernicious  practice 
of  duelling." 

We  may  state  in  brief  the  public  offices  Mr.  Clay 
filled,  in  addition  to  the  two  already  named,  as  follows : 
Member  of  the  Kentucky  legislature  and  speaker  of 
the  House  at  thirty  years  of  age ;  again  in  the  United 
States  Senate,  to  fill  an  unexpired  term,  at  thirty-two ; 
member  of  the  National  House  of  Representatives  at 
thirty-four;  five  times  elected  speaker  of  the  National 
House  of  Representatives ;  United  States  peace  com- 


58  TURNING   POINTS. 

missioner  to  Ghent  at  thirty-seven  (1814)  ;  re-elected  to 
Congress  at  thirty-eight ;  returned  to  the  United  States 
Senate  at  forty-six  (1823)  ;  secretary  of  state  under 
John  Quincy  Adams ;  again  in  the  United  States  Senate 
at  fifty-four  (1831) ;  re-elected  to  the  Senate  at  fifty- 
nine  ;  nominated  for  the  presidency  in  1839  and  1844 ; 
and  re-elected  to  the  United  States  Senate  in  1849  and 
1855.  A  fine  record  for  the  "  Mill-Boy  of  the  Slashes," 
born  in  poverty,  reared  in  obscurity,  self-dependent,  and 
self-made  !  Inspired  to  a  nobler  life  by  the  advice  of 
a  wise  man  who  saw  a  great  soul  under  the  poor  boy's 
jacket ! 

Henry  Clay  died  in  Washington,  June  29,  1852,  sev- 
enty-five years  of  age,  having  spent  over  fifty  years  of 
it  in  the  public  service.  In  different  parts  of  the  land 
the  day  of  his  burial  was  observed  by  public  memorial 
services.  Such  a  service  was  held  in  Springfield,  111. ; 
and  Abraham  Lincoln,  who  became  an  admirer  of  Clay 
in  his  early  manhood,  was  invited  to  deliver  the  eulogy. 
Among  other  things  he  said,  "  His  example  teaches  us 
that  one  can  scarcely  be  so  poor  but  that,  if  he  will,  he 
can  acquire  sufficient  education  to  get  through  the  world 
respectably." 


LUCY  LAECOM.  59 


VIII.    . 

LUCY   LARCOM. 

THE    MILL— GIRLS5    MAGAZINE    THAT    CHANGED    HER 
PURSUIT. 

IN  the  staid  old  town  of  Beverly,  Mass.,  in  sight  of 
the  "Old  South  Clock,"  a  girl-baby  was  born,  in  the 
year  1826,  of  whom  the  citizens  of  to-day  are  justly 
proud.  Her  parents  were  common  people,  poor  but 
sensible,  known  for  their  integrity  and  profound  faith 
in  God.  They  lived  in  a  plain  way,  not  only  from 
necessity,  but  from  choice  as  well.  A  pious,  intelli- 
gent ancestry  had  bequeathed  a  rich  legacy  of  physical 
and  moral  strength  to  them.  Whatever  ancestry  can 
do  for  a  child  was  done  for  this  Beverly  baby,  so  that 
it  was  born  well ;  and  a  good  birthright  is  a  good  start. 
Poor  schools,  though  as  good  as  the  average  of  that  day, 
received  this  little  midgit  at  two  years  of  age  —  as  bright 
and  cute  an  abecedarian  as  ever  went  to  school.  She 
learned  the  alphabet  in  a  few  days,  and  could  read 
in  the  New  Testament  at  three  years  of  age.  "Aunt 
Hannah"  was  her  teacher,  as  nice  and  prim  a  country 
dame  as  ever  handled  the  ferule  in  a  schoolroom. 
After  more  than  sixty  years  had  elapsed,  our  heroine 
described  that  ferule  as  follows :  "  This  ferule  was 
shaped  much  like  the  stick  with  which  she  stirred 
her  hasty  pudding  for  dinner,  —  I  thought  it  was  the 


60  TURNING   POINTS. 

same,  and  I  found  myself  caught  in  a  whirlwind  of 
family  laughter,  by  reporting  at  home  that  '  Aunt  Han- 
nah punished  the  scholars  with  the  pudding-stick.' " 

As  I  have  spoken  of  her  father  and  mother,  perhaps, 
in  justice  to  all,  and  foj  the  reader's  special  benefit,  her 
description  of  them  as  viewed  from  her  sixtieth  year  of 
age,  should  be  cited  here. 

"A  grave,  thoughtful  face  his  was,  lifted  up  so 
grandly  amid  the  blooming  semicircle  of  boys  and  girls, 
all  gathered  silently  in  the  glow  of  the  ruddy  firelight ! 
The  great  family  Bible  had  the  look  upon  its  leathern 
covers  of  a  book  that  had  never  been  new,  and  we 
honored  it  the  more  for  its  apparent  age.  Its  com- 
panion was  the  Westminster  Assembly's  and  Shorter 
Catechism,  out  of  which  my  father  asked  us  questions 
on  Sabbath  afternoons,  when  the  tea-table  had  been 
cleared.  He  ended  the  exercise  with  a  prayer,  stand- 
ing up  with  his  face  turned  toward  the  wall.  My  most 
vivid  recollection  of  his  living  face  is  as  I  saAv  it  re- 
flected in  a  mirror  while  he  stood  thus  praying.  His 
closed  eyes,  the  paleness  and  seriousness  of  his  counte- 
nance, awed  me.  I  never  forgot  that  look.  I  saw  it 
but  once  again,  when,  a  child  of  six  or  seven  years,  I 
was  lifted  to  a  footstool  beside  his  coffin  to  gaze  upon 
his  face  for  the  last  time.  It  wore  the  same  expression 
that  it  did  in  prayer ;  paler,  but  no  longer  careworn  —  so 
peaceful,  so  noble !  They  left  me  standing  there  a  long 
time,  and  I  could  not  take  my  eyes  away. 

"  When    alive,    his    reserved,    abstracted    manner  — 
though   his    gravity  concealed    a   fund  of   rare   humor 
—  kept   us    children    somewhat    aloof   from    him ;    but 
my  mother's  temperament  formed  a  complete  contrast 


LUCY  LABCOM.  61 

to  his.  She  was  chatty  and  social,  rosy-cheeked  and 
dimpled,  with  bright  blue  eyes,  and  soft,  dark,  curling 
hair,  which  she  kept  pinned  up  under  her  white  lace 
cap-border.  Not  even  the  eldest  child  remembered  her 
without  her  cap ;  and  when  some  of  us  asked  her  why 
she  never  let  her  pretty  curls  be  visible,  she  said,  — 

" '  Your  father  liked  to  see  me  in  a  cap.  I  put  it  on 
soon  after  we  were  married,  to  please  him ;  I  always 
have  worn  it,  and  I  always  shall  wear  it  for  the  same 
reason*' 

"  My  mother  had  that  sort  of  sunshiny  nature  which 
easily  shifts  to  shadow,  like  the  atmosphere  of  an  April 
day.  Cheerfulness  held  sway  with  her,  except  occasion- 
ally, when  her  domestic  cares  grew  overwhelming ;  but 
her  spirits  rebounded  quickly  from  discouragement." 

Such  parentage  makes  a  home  worth  having.  To 
nestle  in  it  at  a  time  when  the  ways  were  old-fashioned, 
like  the  tallow  candle  that  lighted  the  house,  and  the 
great  fireplace,  with  its  blazing  back-log,  that  heated  it, 
was  about  the  best  inheritance  ever  vouchsafed  to  child- 
hood. Its  influence  is  witnessed  to-day  in  the  character 
and  brilliant  career  of  this  talented  daughter. 

Among  the  books  that  attracted  our  child's  attention 
and  won  her  heart  was  "Watts,  And  Select  Hymns." 
"She  knew  many  of  them  by  heart,  and  followed  her 
mother  about  the  house,  when  doing  her  work,  repeat- 
ing them.  She  was  but  three  or  four  years  of  age  when 
she  resolved  to  commit  to  memory  all  the  hymns  in  the 
book.  She  started  out  heroically  to  perform  her  self- 
imposed  task,  but  finally  abandoned  the  purpose  when 
she  discovered  that  the  hymns  numbered  a  thousand. 
That  she  was  a  born  poet  is  clear  from  her  great  love  of 


62  TURNING  POINTS. 

poetry  wherever  she  found  it,  and  her  early  habit  of 
composing  verses.  When  she  was  four  years  of  age  her 
"motherly  sister  Emilie,"  as  she  has  since  called  her, 
offered  to  give  her  a  book  when  she  should  have  com- 
mitted fifty  hymns  to  memory,  and  to  teach  her  to  write 
when  she  should  have  committed  a  hundred.  In  a  short 
time  she  earned  the  book,  which  was  Jane  Taylor's 
"  Verses  for  Infant  Minds,"  and  also  the  privilege  to  learn 
to  write.  At  five  years  of  age  she  could  repeat  between 
one  and  two  hundred  of  Watts's  hymns.  There  is  no 
doubt  that  the  influence  of  this  hymn-book  upon  her  life 
was  marked ;  that  it  served  to  develop  not  only  a  poetical 
taste,  but  also  a  poet's  genius.  Before  she  was  seven 
years  old  she  had  read  with  delight  "Pilgrim's  Prog- 
ress," Miss  Edgeworth's  "Juvenile  Stories,"  "  Scottish 
Chiefs,"  "Paul  and  Virginia,"  "Elizabeth  and  the  Exiles 
of  Siberia,"  "  Nina,  An  Icelandic  Tale,"  "  Vicar  of  Wake- 
field,"  "  Gulliver's  Travels,"  "  Arabian  Nights,"  several 
of  Scott's  novels,  and  a  "History  of  the  Early  Martyrs," 
and  the  persecution  of  the  "Waldenses  and  Scotch 
Covenanters." 

At  seven  years  of  age  she  began  to  compose  rhymes 
for  her  own  childish  amusement.  One  day  her  brother 
John  proposed  "  writing  poetry,"  just  for  the  fun,  on  a 
rainy  day,  to  which  she  assented  with  delight.  P>ut 
John  was  not  so  much  of  a  poet  as  she,  and  he  soon 
abandoned  the  amusement ;  but  she  produced  two  verses, 
the  first  of  which  was,  — 

"  '  One  summer  day,'  said  little  Jane, 
'  We  were  walking  down  a  shady  lane, 
When  suddenly  the  wind  blew  high, 
And  the  red  lightning  flashed  in  the  sky.'  " 


LUCY  LAECOM.  63 

The  second  verse  ran  thus,  — 

"  '  The  peals  of  thunder,  how  they  rolled ! 
And  I  felt  myself  a  little  cooled; 
For  I  before  had  been  quite  warm ; 
But  now  around  me  was  a  storm.'  " 

John  was  elated  over  her  success,  and  spread  the 
fame  of  it  through  the  family  and  neighborhood.  The 
result  was  that  she  had  to  repeat  her  verses  to  members 
of  the.  family,  and  to  neighbors  also. 

From  that  time  she  multiplied  her  rhymes  at  a  rapid 
rate,  and  finally  wrote  "  little  books  of  ballads,"  which 
she  illustrated  with  colors  from  her  toy  paint-box,  and 
then  concealed  them  in  the  cracks  of  the  attic  floor,  that 
none  of  the  family  might  see  them. 

"  Aunt  Hannah,"  her  teacher,  thought  well  of  the 
child's  efforts  at  rhyming,  and  prophesied  that  she 
would  be  .a  poet  in  womanhood.  She  asked  her  to 
repeat  whatever  verses  she  wrote  to  her,  a  request  to 
which  the  little  girl  responded  with  evident  satisfac- 
tion ;  and  she  was  much  encouraged  by  this  attention. 
The  neighbors,  too,  looked  upon  the  child  as  a  prodigy, 
and  often  invited  her  to  repeat  poetry  that  she  had  writ- 
ten. They  wondered,  too,  over  the  kind  of  books  that 
she  read  —  books  that  were  written  for  adults,  and  were 
beyond  the  grasp  of  children  of  her  age. 

Before  her  father  died  he  began  to  talk  about  remov- 
ing to  Lowell,  that  some  of  his  children  might  earn  a 
living  in  the  mills.  It  was  a  hard  struggle  for  him  to 
support  his  family ;  and  he  saw  that  it  would  be  a  still 
harder  struggle  in  the  near  future.  But  death  put  a 
period  to  his  plans,  and  left  the  mother  single-handed 


64  TURNING   POINTS. 

and  alone  to  rear  her  dependent  brood.  It  was  a  ter- 
rible loss  to  the  household,  —  the  death  of  the  thought- 
ful, hard-working  father,  —  so  that  removing  to  Lowell 
became  a  necessity.  There  the  mother  could  keep 
boarders,  and  the  older  children  work  in  the  mill.  It 
was  a  great  undertaking,  but  necessity  allowed  no  time 
for  discussion.  The  removal  was  inevitable.  So,  after 
a  little,  the  family  was  keeping  house  in  what  is  now 
the  "  City  of  Spindles,"  and  the  house  was  filled  with 
boarders  —  girls  from  the  mills.  On  the  whole,  the 
change  was  very  agreeable  to  the  subject  of  our  tale. 
It  introduced  her  to  the  first  grammar-school  taught 
by  a  man  that  she  ever  attended.  Here  her  advantages 
for  study  were  an  improvement  upon  Beverly  opportuni- 
ties, and  she  enjoyed  them  hugely.  She  loved  books 
and  school,  and  her  soul  was  already  reaching  out  after 
an  education.  She  saw  dimly  a  better  prospect  before 
her,  and  hoped  for  much  more  than  she  saw.  But  the 
time  came  when  she  and  her  younger  sister  were  obliged 
to  work  in  the  mill,  for  the  mother  was  not  paying  her 
expenses.  At  thirteen  years  of  age  she  became  a  mill- 
operative.  And  here  the  turning-point  of  her  life  came. 
What  might  seem  to  the  careless  observer  the  blast- 
ing of  all  her  hopes  of  culture  proved  to  be  a  happy 
introduction  to  a  higher  sphere  of  thought  and  noble 
purpose. 

It  was  in  this  wise.  The  mill-girls  as  a  class  were 
bright  and  intelligent,  many  of  them  well  educated 
and  aspiring  —  the  daughters  of  New  England  ;  a  large 
majority  of  them,  perhaps,  from  the  hills  of  New  Hamp- 
shire and  Vermont.  Many  of  them  were  readers  ;  some 
were  real  students.  They  published  two  monthly  maga- 


LUCY  LARCOM.  65 

zines,  edited  and  sustained  throughout  by  the  girls  of  the 
mills.  These  were  united  in  1842,  under  the  title  of  the 
Lowell  Offering  And  Magazine.  This  was  a  bright,  spark- 
ling monthly,  which  attracted  the  attention  of  literary 
people.  It  became  known  all  over  the  land,  because 
it  was  the  production  of  "  factory  girls,"  first ;  and, 
secondly,  because  it  was  a  magazine  of  genuine  merit. 

Lucy  was  fascinated  with  this  monthly  journal.  But 
for  it  her  introduction  into  the  factory,  driven  there 
by  poverty,  might  have  quenched  all  the  intellectual  fire 
that  was  kindling  in  her  soul,  and  doomed  her  to  servi- 
tude and  obscurity.  It  proved,  however,  just  the  inspi- 
ration that  a  girl  of  her  aptitudes  and  talents  needed. 
She  wondered  if  she  could  write  a  poem  worthy  of  a 
place  in  that  magazine.  It  would  be  the  happiest  day 
of  her  life  to  see  a  composition  of  her  own  in  that  unique 
work.  The  opportunity  appealed  to  the  noblest  part  of 
her  being.  It  awakened  her  talents  to  do  their  best. 
Her  muse  spread  wings  for  a  more  daring  flight.  She 
resolved  to  shine  upon  those  charming  pages.  She 
thought,  studied,  wrote,  improved,  broadened,  triumphed. 
The  products  of  her  pen  became  the  gems  of  the  Lowell 
Offering.  Literary  men  and  women  read  them,  and 
inquired  who  the  author  was.  John  G.  Whittier,  New 
England's  favored  poet,  read  them  with  delight,  and 
sought  out  the  author  as  one  of  America's  future  poets. 
Her  fame  spread  widely  as  a  writer  before  she  ceased 
to  be  a  "  factory  girl."  She  saw  what  other  girls  were 
doing,  and  she  set  herself  to  work  to  do  it  even  better 
than  they.  She  might  never  have  caught  the  inspira- 
tion in  the  Beverly  home.  Had  affluence  instead  of 
poverty  been  her  inheritance,  she  might  have  missed 


66  TURNING  POINTS. 

the  inspiration  that  canie  to  her  in  the  Lowell  mills. 
It  was  the  hard  struggle  of  life  that  carried  her  there, 
just  when  her  soul  could  easily  be  induced  to  soar.  It 
was  the  nick  of  time  for  her  resolute  spirit,  and  the 
place  above  all  others  for  her  literary  debut. 

At  twenty  years  of  age  she  removed  to  Illinois  with 
her  sister's  family,  who  were  to  settle  upon  a  prairie 
farm.  Lucy  would  teach  the  district  school,  a  position 
for  which  she  yearned,  and  which  she  was  eminently 
qualified  to  fill.  But  Providence  soon  led  her  up  higher. 
The  Monticello  Seminary  was  not  far  away,  and  she  saw 
in  that  institution  an  unexpected  opportunity  to  satisfy 
her  heart's  desire  for  higher  culture.  She  could  prose- 
cute her  studies  there,  and  at  the  same  time  pay  her 
way  by  teaching  in  the  Preparatory  Department.  For 
three  years  she  was  connected  with  this  seminary  as 
student-teacher ;  and  they  were  three  happy,  hard-work- 
ing years,  that  told  plainly  upon  her  future  career. 

She  returned  from  the  West  to  become  a  member  of 
the  faculty  of  Norton  Female  Seminary,  where  her 
ability  as  teacher  and  writer  won  for  her  a  reputation 
New  England  wide.  For  ten  years  she  taught  in  this 
and  kindred  institutions,  and  then  exchanged  the  pur- 
suit of  instructor  for  a  strictly  literary  life.  By  this 
time  people  forgot  that  she  was  ever  a  "  factory  girl ; " 
they  knew  her  as  Lucy  Larcom  the  poet,  editor,  and 
authoress.  Her  busy  pen  has  instructed  and  fascinated 
a  host  of  readers,  Avhile  her  modest  and  unassuming 
Christian  character  has  been  an  uplifting  power  in  our 
social  and  public  life. 

Miss  Larcom  says  in  her  latest  book,  "  A  New  Eng- 
land Girlhood,"  "  Let  me  say  to  you,  dear  girls,  for 


LUCY  LARCOM.  67 

whom  these  pages  have  been  written,  that  if  I  have 
learned  anything  by  living,  it  is  this,  that  the  meaning 
of  life  is  education  ;  not  through  book-knowledge  alone, 
sometimes  entirely  without  it.  Education  is  growth, 
the  development  of  our  best  possibilities  from  within, 
outward ;  and  it  cannot  be  carried  on  as  it  should  be 
except  in  a  school;  just  such  a  school  as  we  all  find  our- 
selves in,  —  this  world  of  human  beings  by  whom  Ave  are 
surrounded.  The  beauty  of  belonging  to  this  school  is, 
that  we  cannot  learn  anything  in  it  by  ourselves  alone, 
but  for  and  with  our  fellow-pupils  the  wide  earth  over. 
We  can  never  expect  promotion  here,  except  by  taking 
our  place  among  the  lowest,  and  sharing  their  difficul- 
ties until  they  are  removed  and  we  all  become  graduates 
together  for  a  higher  school. 

"  Humility,  sympathy,  helpfulness,  and  faith  are  the 
best  teachers  in  this  great  university ;  and  none  of  us  are 
well-educated  who  do  not  accept  their  training.  The 
real  satisfaction  of  life  is,  and  must  forever  be,  the  edu- 
cation of  all  for  each,  and  of  each  for  all.  So  let  us 
all  try  together  to  be  good  and  faithful  women,  and  not 
care  too  much  for  what  the  world  may  think  of  us  or  of 
our  abilities." 

Miss  Larcom  became  editor  of  Our  Young  Folks  in 
1867,  a  magazine  that  was  established  in  Boston  in 
1865,  and  she  conducted  it  until  1874.  Since  that  time 
she  has  been  a  valued  contributor  to  the  pages  of  many 
popular  magazines,  and  has  given  to  the  public  the 
following  volumes :  "  Ships  in  the  Mist,  and  Other 
Stories  "  (1859) ;  "  Poems  "  (1868)  ;  "An  Idyl  of  Work, 
a  Story  in  Verse  "  (1875) ;  «  Childhood  Songs  "  (1877)  ; 
"  Wild  Eoses  of  Cape  Ann,  and  Other  Poems  "  (1880)  ; 


68  TURNING   POINTS. 

and  "A  New  England  Girlhood  "  (1892).  She  has  also 
edited  several  collections  of  poetry,  including,  "  Breath- 
ings of  a  Better  Life "  (1867)  ;  "  Hillside  and  Seaside 
in  Poetry  "  (1876) ;  and  "  Eoadside  Poetry  for  Summer 
Travellers  "  (1877).  She  died  in  Boston  on  the  seven- 
teenth of  April,  1893,  murmuring  in  her  unconsciousness 
the  word  "Freedom." 

Thus  the  mill-girl  whose  poetic  genius  was  inspired 
to  soar  by  the  Lowell  Offering,  has  scattered  flowers  all 
along  her  pathway  —  her  life  a  poem. 


GEORGE    WILLIAM    CHILDS. 


GEORGE   WILLIAM  GUILDS.  69 


IX. 

GEORGE  WILLIAM  CHILDS. 

THE    EVENT    THAT    CAUSED    HIM    TO    RISE    FROM    NAVY 
BOY    TO    EDITOR. 

GEORGE  W.  GUILDS  died  in  the  city  of  Philadelphia, 
Feb.  3,  1894,  at  the  age  of  sixty-five,  beloved  and 
mourned  by  all.  He  was  born  in  Baltimore,  Md.,  of 
poor  but  worthy  parents,  and  lived  there  until  he  was 
thirteen  years  old,  when  he  entered  the  United  States 
Navy.  It  does  not  appear  that  he  entered  the  navy 
because  he  had  a  taste  or  desire  for  such  a  life,  but 
rather  that  he  might  do  something  for  his  own  support. 
He  was  thoughtful  and  manly,  and  loved  work.  At 
ten  years  of  age  he  spent  his  long  summer  vacation  as 
errand-boy  in  a  bookstore.  Other  school-boys  accepted 
vacation  as  a  special  season  for  a  good  time,  instead 
of  work ;  but  with  George  it  was  a  bread-and-butter  ques- 
tion, that  he  solved  in  the  most  philosophical  way. 

He  spent  only  fifteen  months  in  the  naval  service, 
and  they  were  months  of  real  discipline  to  him.  His 
health  was  much  improved,  so  that  he  became  robust 
and  vigorous.  Had  he  continued  in  the  navy,  it  is 
probable  that  his  influence  would  have  been  limited 
to  a  narrow  circle,  and  Philadelphia  would  never  have 
known  him  as  her  most  successful  publisher  and  her 


70  TURNING  POINTS. 

most  generous  benefactor.  But  Providence  had  a  larger 
and  better  work  for  him  to  do  than  would  have  been 
possible  in  the  naval  service. 

His  love  of  books,  begotten  when  he  was  errand-boy, 
at  intervals  from  ten  to  thirteen  years  of  age,  was  not 
diminished  by  his  experiences  at  sea.  With  an  inborn 
aspiration  for  better  things,  and  an  honorable  desire  to 
make  his  mark,  his  early  service  in  the  bookstore  had 
stimulated  his  intellectual  faculties.  From  year  to  year 
he  appears  to  have  appropriated  those  ideas  which  made 
his  later  life  illustrious. 

On  going  to  Philadelphia,  at  fourteen  years  of  age, 
he  did  not  seek  a  situation  in  a  hardware  store  or  dry- 
goods  house  or  railroad  office,  but  he  went  directly  to  a 
bookstore ;  and  he  found  employment  with  a  Quaker. 
He  was  to  serve  as  errand-boy,  with  the  prospect  of  pro- 
motion. His  salary  was  three  dollars  a  week ;  and  he 
was  glad  to  get  even  that  small  pay,  for  he  was  penni- 
less. He  left  on  record  this  account  of  his  labors  when 
he  began  to  serve  in  the  Quaker  city  :  — 

"  When  first  at  work  in  Philadelphia,  I  would  get  up 
very  early  in  the  morning,  go  down  to  the  store,  and 
wash  the  pavement  and  put  things  in  order  before 
breakfast ;  and  in  the  winter-time  would  make  the  fire 
and  sweep  out  the  store.  In  the  same  spirit,  when 
books  were  bought  at  night  by  auction,  I  would  early 
the  next  morning  go  for  them  with  a  wheelbarrow ;  and 
I  have  never  outgrown  this  wholesome  habit  of  doing 
things  directly  and  in  order." 

He  had  to  work  hard,  and  he  was  perfectly  willing  to 
do  so.  The  paragraph  quoted  from  his  diary  shows  that 
he  meant  business  from  the  start.  Nor  was  the  good 


GEORGE   WILLIAM  CHILDS.  71 

Quaker  who  employed  him  long  in  finding  this  out. 
He  discovered  within  two  weeks  that  he  had  a  treasure 
in  his  new  errand-boy,  and  there  sprang  up  between 
them  at  once  a  strong  mutual  regard.  George  proved 
efficient  in  all  work  about  the  store,  and  did  thoroughly 
whatever  he  undertook.  Early  and  late  he  was  at  his 
post  of  duty,  with  as  much  interest  and  enthusiasm  as 
though  the  store  had  been  his  own. 

There  was  only  one  family  in  the  whole  city  whom 
he  knew,  and  that  family  removed  soon  after  he  took 
up  his  residence  there.  Under  these  circumstances  he 
would  have  been  lonely  but  for  his  devotion  to  business. 
He  devoted  all  of  his  time  to  his  employer's  service, 
so  tliat  he  had  none  left  for  pleasure.  For  this  reason 
he  scarcely  stopped  to  think  that  he  was  a  stranger  in 
thevcity,  and  he  thoroughly  enjoyed  his  work. 

The  bookstore  was  in  the  Public  Ledger  building,  and 
he  soon  became  acquainted  with  that  journal.  He  began 
to  realize  the  usefulness  of  a  daily  paper  of  high  liter- 
ary and  moral  character.  The  Public  Ledger  did  not 
correspond  with  his  ideal,  but  he  saw  that  it  might 
be  made  a  model.  From  month  to  month  he  continued 
to  ask  himself  whether  he  might  not  some  time  own 
that  journal.  He  disclosed  his  thoughts  to  no  one ;  for 
he  would  have  been  regarded  as  visionary  and  impractic- 
able had  he  done  so.  But  he  did  not  cease  thinking 
about  the  matter. 

That  he  was  guided  into  the  Public  Ledger  building 
was  providential.  •  Elsewhere  he  might  have  fostered 
other  plans,  and  might  never  have  fallen  into  the  niche 
which  he  filled  so  well.  But  here  the  value  and  in- 
fluence of  a  high-toned  journal  was  forced  upon  his  at- 


72  TURNING   POINTS. 

tention.  All  through  his  book-selling  career  the  Ledger 
occupied  his  thoughts,  until  a  purpose  was  formed  to 
possess  it,  and  make  it  a  power.  This  was  all  the  more 
singular  because  he  had  enjoyed  few  school  advantages, 
and  never  had  any  particular  drill  to  qualify  him  to 
manage  a  great  journal  in  a  great  city. 

George  proved  himself  so  efficient  and  faithful,  that 
he  was  promoted  to  a  responsible  position,  with  larger 
pay.  By  his  untiring  efforts  he  made  himself  indispen- 
sable to  his  employer.  He  mastered  all  details,  and  in 
doing  so  became  a  favorite  with  customers.  His  manly 
bearing,  courteous  manners,  upright  dealings,  and  noble 
character,  commanded  general  confidence  and  respect. 

At  the  end  of  four  years  he  had  laid  up  a  little 
money,  and  he  resolved  to  open  a  bookstore  of  his 
own.  His  employer  deeply  regretted  his  decision,  but, 
at  the  same  time,  had  no  heart  to  dissuade  him  from  his 
purpose.  He  was  not  quite  nineteen  years  of  age,  and 
was  well  acquainted  with  the  book  publishers  of  New 
York  and  Boston ;  for  he  had  more  than  once  attended 
the  semi-annual  sale  of  books  in  those  cities  for  his 
employer.  All  were  his  hearty  friends,  disposed  to 
render  him  any  aid  within  their  power.  To  them  his 
character  counted  for  more  than  his  money,  and  they 
were  glad  to  see  him  prosper. 

From  the  start  he  made  money;  and  his  business 
qualities  attracted  the  attention  of  R.  E.  Peterson  &  Co., 
prominent  publishers  of  Philadelphia,  and  they  invited 
him  to  become  a  member  of  the  firm.  He  accepted  the 
invitation,  and  within  a  year  thereafter  the  firm  was 
changed  to  Childs  &  Peterson.  Subsequently  Mr.  Childs 
married  Mr.  Peterson's  daughter. 


GEORGE   WILLIAM  GUILDS.  73 

It  was  Mr.  Childs' s  judgment  that  led  the  firm  to 
publish  "Dr.  Kane's  Arctic  Explorations."  He  ad- 
vised Dr.  Kane  to  abandon  his  idea  of  making  it  a 
scientific  work,  and,  instead,  make  it  a  popular  narra- 
tive. The  sale  of  it  was  immense.  They  payed  Dr. 
Kane  royalty  to  the  amount  of  seventy  thousand  dollars 
in  one  year.  They  published,  also,  Parson  Brownlow's 
book,  of  which  they  sold  fifty  thousand  copies.  In 
1860  Mr.  Peterson  withdrew  from  the  firm,  and  Mr. 
Childs  entered  into  partnership  with  J.  B.  Lippincott 
&  Co.,  but  withdrew  in  one  year.  In  1863  he  purchased 
The  Publishers'  Circular,  an  advertising  sheet  in  New 
York,  and  changed  its  name  to  American  Publishers' 
Circular  and  Literary  Gazette,  and  made  a  marked 
financial  success  of  it. 

In  1855  he  said  to  Dr.  E.  S.  Mackenzie,  "  I  will  yet 
be  the  owner  of  the  Public  Ledger."  No  time  had  been 
lost ;  for  his  previous  experience  had  been  an  excellent 
discipline  to  qualify  him  to  enter  upon  his  real  life- 
work. 

In  1864  he  purchased  the  Public  Ledger.  At  the  time 
it  was  a  losing  enterprise,  the  owners  having  lost  one 
hundred  and  fifty  thousand  dollars  the  previous  year. 
Notwithstanding  this  discouraging  fact,  Mr.  Childs  pur- 
chased it.  He  saw  money  in  his  ideal  journal  of  the 
future.  At  once  he  proceeded  to  improve  its  moral  tone 
and  literary  character,  increasing  its  size  and  price. 
Dr.  Prime  said,  "  Mr.  Childs  excluded  from  it  all  details 
of  a  disgusting  kind  ;  all  reports  of  s-uch  vice  as  may 
not  with  propriety  be  read  aloud  in  the  family,  that 
poison  the  minds  of  young  men,  inflame  the  passions, 
and  corrupt  the  heart ;  all  scandal  and  slang ;  and  that 


74  TURNING  POINTS. 

whole  class  of  news  that  constitutes  the  staple  of  so 
many  daily  papers.  The  same  rule  was  applied  to  the 
advertising  columns ;  and  from  them  was  excluded  all 
that  in  any  shape  and  form  might  be  offensive  to  good 
morals."  Immediately  the  journal  became  more  popular 
than  ever,  because  it  was  made  thoroughly  reliable. 

Had  he  remained  in  the  book-trade,  he  would  have 
been  the  same  noble  citizen,  honored  and  respected  by 
all,  but  the  country  would  never  have  known  his  true 
worth,  or  felt  the  power  of  that  lofty  purpose  which  a 
larger  and  more  important  field  of  labor  made  conspicu- 
ous. The  turning-point  in  his  life  was  when  he  ex- 
changed the  navy  for  the  store;  and  all  that  followed 
was  but  a  divine  leading  on  to  fortune. 

Mr.  Childs  was  called  "  the  most  distinguished  Ameri- 
can citizen,"  indicating  the  esteem  in  which  he  was  held 
by  the  general  public.  One  of  his  biographers  says, 
"  It  is  safe  to  say  that  no  living  American  was  ever  so 
much  bewritten  as  George  W.  Childs.  There  is  a  very 
good  reason  for  this.  Nobody  in  the  United  States  ever 
had  so  many  cordial  friends ;  nobody  in  the  world  has 
befriended  so  many  people.  All  his  life  he  was  a  phi- 
lanthropist, and  at  sixty  it  was  a  profession  with  him. 
He  once  said  to  me,  'I  believe  that  children  should  be 
educated  to  give  away  with  judgment  their  little  all ;  to 
share  their  possessions  with  their  friends.  If  they  are 
trained  in  this  spirit,  it  will  always  be  easy  for  them  to 
be  generous  ;  if  they  are  not,  it  will  be  more  natural  for 
them  in  the  course  of  time  to  be  mean.  And  meanness 
can  grow  upon  a  man  until  it  saps  his  soul.' " 

The  Public  Ledger  made  him  a  millionaire ;  and  every 
good  cause  received  its  full  share  of  the  fortune.  It  is 


GEORGE   WILLIAM  CHILD S.  75 

claimed  that  he  gave  away  a  thousand  dollars  a  day  on 
the  average,  year  after  year.  Both  learning  and  religion 
received  his  large  and  frequent  gifts.  He  was  eminently 
a  Christian  man,  and  his  purse  responded  to  his  heart 
in  giving  liberally  for  the  spread  of  the  gospel  in  all 
lands.  His  employees,  in  sickness  and  misfortune,  were 
the  recipients  of  his  generous  aid.  To  speak  of  all  his 
benefactions  would  exhaust  our  pages.  It  is  sufficient 
to  say  that  enough  of  his  wealth  was  given  away  to 
make  him  a  happy  man.  Evidently  he  knew  how  to 
enjoy  his  money. 

His  popularity  was  unbounded.  One  year  both  Re- 
publicans and  Democrats  besought  him  to  run  for  mayor 
of  Philadelphia,  assuring  him  that  no  other  candidate 
should  be  in  the  field.  In  1888  he  was  importuned  by 
leaders  of  the  two  great  parties  to  become  candidate  for 
president  of  the  United  States.  The  proprietors  of  the 
two  leading  Democratic  papers  in  the  country  promised 
to  contribute  a  hundred  thousand  dollars  each  to  the 
campaign  fund  ;  and  the  president  of  a  great  railroad 
offered  his  check  for  fifty  thousand  dollars  on  the  same 
conditions,  —  if  he  would  become  a  candidate  for  presi- 
dent. But  he  declined  the  flattering  proposition,  having 
not  the  least  desire  for  political  life.  And  when  he  was 
told,  "  Your  name  will  break  the  ( solid  South,' "  he 
promptly  answered,  "  And  it  will  break  the  heart  of  my 
wife  also."  She  had  not  the  least  ambition  for  the  posi- 
tion of  "  first  lady  in  the  land." 

Mr.  Childs  entertained  in  his  home  more  renowned 
men  and  women  of  different  countries  than  any  other 
American.  Authors  like  Dickens,  Herbert  Spencer, 
Froude,  Irving,  Du  Chaillu,  Bancroft,  Longfellow,  Low- 


76  TURNING  POINTS. 

ell,  Whittier ;  and  statesmen  and  generals  like  Emperor 
Dom  Pedro,  Grant,  Sherman,  Sheridan,  De  Lesseps,  and 
others.  His  hospitality  was  generous  beyond  compare ; 
and  he  possessed  just  the  qualities  of  heart  and  head  to 
make  foreigners,  as  well  as  his  own  countrymen,  feel 
welcome  in  his  splendid  home. 

One  incident  of  his  life  that  illustrates  his  kind, 
benevolent  spirit  must  suffice.  For  several  weeks  he 
had  observed  that  one  of  his  employees  appeared  to  be 
worn  and  exhausted.  Calling  him  into  his  office  one 
day,  he  said  to  him,  "  You  have  not  been  in  your  usual 
health  of  late."  -  —  "  No,  I  have  not,  though  I  can  scarcely 
tell  what  is  the  matter  with  me,"  the  employee  an- 
swered. 

"  How  would  you  like  to  take  a  vacation  for  three 
months,  and  visit  Europe  with  your  wife  ?  "  Mr.  Childs 
continued. 

"  I  should  like  it ;  but  I  cannot  afford  to  do  it." 

"  You  can  afford  it  if  I  pay  the  bills,"  responded 
Mr.  Childs,  laughing. 

The  result  was  that  the  employee  took  a  trip  to 
Europe,  accompanied  by  his  wife,  was  absent  three 
months,  and  returned  a  hale  and  hearty  man.  Mr. 
Childs's  life  was  crowded  with  just  such  deeds  of 
kindness,  making  his  career  a  phenomenal  one.  All 
of  this  would  have  been  lost  to  the  world  had  he  not 
renounced  his  life  in  the  navy,  to  follow  his  natural 
bent  into  a  grander  arena. 


CYEUS    WEST  FIELD.  77 


X. 

CYRUS   WEST  FIELD. 

THE    TURN    THE    ATLANTIC    CABLE    GAVE    TO    HIS    LIFE. 

CYRUS  W.  FIELD  was  born  Nov.  30,  1819,  in  Stock- 
bridge,  Mass.,  where  he  enjoyed  only  the  common-school 
advantages  of  the  village.  He  belonged  to  a  talented 
family  of  very  decided  literary  taste,  and  inherited  the 
ability  and  enterprise  of  his  honored  ancestors. 

At  fifteen  years  of  age  he  became  a  clerk  in  the  store 
of  A.  T.  Stewart  of  New  York  City.  Deeply  interested 
in  his  new  sphere  of  work,  and  elated  by  his  prospects, 
he  devoted  himself  with  unusual  zeal  to  acquiring  a 
knowledge  of  the  business.  He  developed  rapidly  in 
tact  and  push,  so  that  his  employer  saw  in  him  the 
making  of  a  leading  merchant. 

At  twenty-one  he  engaged  in  business  for  himself ; 
and  in  fifteen  years  he  was  a  wealthy  man  for  that  day. 
He  had  worked  with  all  his  might,  in  order  to  succeed ; 
and  now  the  delusive  idea  took  possession  of  him  that 
the  acme  of  happiness  was  to  be  found  in  retirement 
from  business,  with  nothing  to  do.  That  such  a  sensible 
man  should  embrace  an  idea  so  misleading  was  strange 
indeed.  However,  he  carried  out  his  purpose,  and  for 
six  months  lived  at  ease ;  and  yet  he  had  never  been  so 
restless  in  his  life.  He  was  dissatisfied  with  himself  and 


78  TURNING  POINTS. 

his  surroundings.  Years  after,  referring  to  that  time, 
he  said, — 

"  Now  I  was  a  gentleman  of  leisure !  But  I  soon 
missed  the  excitement  of  business,  the  contact  with 
men ;  and  began  to  feel  that  I  was  sinking  down  from 
the  place  of  an  actor  in  the  world  into  one  of  inglorious 
repose." 

As  a  sort  of  excuse  for  his  unwise  choice  of  early 
retirement  from  business,  he  wrote,  — 

"For  fifteen  years  I  knew  nothing  but  business.  I 
was  up  early  and  late,  giving  myself  no  rest  in  summers 
heat  or  winter's  cold.  At  the  end  of  that  time  I  had 
reached  what  at  the  start  had  been  the  limit  of  my 
desires.  Ideas  of  fortune  then  were  much  less  than 
now;  and  having  reached  what  I  aimed  at,  I  resolved 
to  retire  from  business,  that  I  might  enjoy  what  I  had 
acquired,  free  from  anxiety,  and  pass  the  rest  of  my 
days  in  tranquillity  and  peace.  Little  did  I  think  that 
the  great  struggle  of  my  life  was  not  yet  begun ! " 

Had  Mr.  Field  realized  the  fulfilment  of  his  expecta- 
tion on  retiring  from  business,  he  would  never  have  been 
heard  of  beyond  his  own  clique  or  neighborhood.  But 
he  had  not  reached  the  turning-point  of  his  career;  that 
was  before,  and  not  behind  him.  The  Atlantic  Cable 
was  to  settle  that  beyond  controversy,  and  that  was  yet 
in  the  future. 

He  was  conversing  with  his  brother  Matthew  about 
the  construction  of  a  telegraph-line  across  Newfound- 
land, when  the  idea  of  a  telegraph-line  under  the  ocean 
flashed  upon  his  mind.  He  pondered  over  the  matter 
for  many  months,  and  the  more  he  pondered  the  more 
important  and  practicable  the  project  seemed.  At  length 


CYRUS   WEST  FIELD.  79 

he  ventured  to  lay  it  before  Peter  Cooper,  who  saw  value 
in  the  enterprise.  Then  Moses  Taylor,  Marshall  O. 
Roberts,  and  Chandler  White  were  consulted,  all  of 
whom  indorsed  the  enterprise,  although  they  saw  great 
obstacles  in  the  way.  Their  words  of  cheer  caused 
Mr.  Field  to  go  forward. 

That  a  thoughtful  man  who  had  retired  from  busi- 
ness to  enjoy  his  fortune  in  travel  and  ease,  should 
become  the  projector  of  such  a  tremendous  piece  of 
work,  with  all  the  care,  study,  anxiety,  and  labor  in- 
volved, can  be  explained  only  by  saying  that  Provi- 
dence had  other  work  for  him  to  do  for  the  human 
race  ;  and  that  now  he  had  come  to  the  parting  of  the 
ways. 

A  syndicate  was  organized  as  soon  as  possible,  and 
measures  adopted  to  lay  a  cable  in  the  Atlantic  Ocean, 
to  connect  Europe  with  America.  No  one  of  the  in- 
terested parties  anticipated  an  easy  or  a  speedy  triumph. 
It  was  a  difficult  enterprise  they  had  undertaken  ;  and, 
more  than  that,  it  was  only  an  experiment. 

Mr.  Field  crossed  the  Atlantic  to  England  over  forty 
times  in  consummating  his  plans  and  interesting  capi- 
talists and  men  of  science  in  the  Old  World  in  the 
enterprise.  He  labored  thirteen  years  before  he  was 
ready  to  lay  the  cable.  Many  practical  and  scientific 
questions  arose  about  the  size  and  character  of  the 
cable,  some  of  which  they  could  not  solve  without 
actual  trial ;  and  it  consumed  months  and  years  to 
dispose  of  these  perplexing  issues. 

At  length  the  cable  was  manufactured,  and  was  ready 
for  use.  The  Great  Eastern  was  secured,  on  which  it 
was  loaded,  to  be  payed  out  as  the  majestic  steamer 


80  TURNING   POINTS. 

sailed  over  the  sea.  It  was  a  time  of  intense  interest 
on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic ;  and  the  people  anxiously 
waited  to  learn  the  result.  Nor  were  they  obliged  to 
wait  long.  What  was  their  disappointment  to  learn 
that  the  cable  parted  in  mid-ocean.  This  was  exactly 
what  some  unbelievers  in  the  project  predicted ;  and 
they  exclaimed,  "  I  told  you  so.  It  never  can  be  done." 
One  trial  of  laying  the  cable  was  enough  for  many 
lookers-on;  a  second  trial  would  prove  no  more  suc- 
cessful. 

But  Mr.  Field  saw  nothing  in  the  failure  to  daunt  his 
ardor.  There  was  a  tremendous  obstacle  in  his  way,  but 
he  expected  to  overcome  it.  After  two  years  more  of 
work,  preparing  for  a  second  trial,  the  Great  Eastern 
sailed  again,  with  the  cable  on  board.  Everything  pros- 
pered to  awaken  the  highest  hopes,  until  in  mid-ocean 
the  cable  parted  again,  and  another  failure  was  recorded. 

Now  many  friends  of  the  enterprise  lost  heart.  Every 
member  of  the  syndicate  but  one  advised  Mr.  Field  to 
abandon  his  purpose.  "  Only  a  waste  of  time  and 
money,"  they  said ;  "  two  trials  are  enough  to  prove 
that  no  cable  can  bear  the  ocean  pressure."  But  Mr. 
Field  was  not  accustomed  to  despair.  He  was  a  per- 
sistent and  irrepressible  worker,  and  he  believed  in  the 
cable  as  he  believed  in  God.  He  did  not  even  entertain 
the  question  of  abandoning  his  purpose.  He  went  to 
work  with  unabated  zeal  to  prepare  for  another  trial. 
And  now  his  perseverance  was  rewarded,  and  the  cable 
was  triumphantly  laid,  and  communication  established 
between  the  two  continents.  "What  hath  God  wrought," 
was  the  first  message  he  sent  over  the  Atlantic  Cable. 

All  nations  appreciated  his  triumph  at  once.     They 


CYRUS    WEST  FIELD.  81 

recognized  the  great  blessing  such  an  ocean-line  of 
telegraphing  would  be  to  the  world ;  and  more  and 
more,  as  the  years  have  rolled  by,  this  appreciation 
has  grown,  until  the  author's  name  has  become  im- 
mortal. 

The  Congress  of  the  United  States  hastened  to  pre- 
sent a  gold  medal  to  Mr.  Field,  with  the  nation's  vote 
of  thanks  ;  while  the  prime  minister  of  England  said, 
"  Only  the  fact  that  he  was  a  citizen  of  another  country 
prevented  his  receiving  high  honors  from  the  British 
Government."  John  Bright  pronounced  him  "the  Co- 
lumbus of  modern  times,  who  by  his  cable  had  moored 
the  New  World  alongside  of  the  Old."  The  Paris  Ex- 
position of  1867  presented  him  with  the  "  grand  medal," 
the  highest  it  had  to  bestow.  Mr.  Field  also  received 
the  thanks  of  the  city  of  New  York,  and  a  gold  medal 
with  the  freedom  of  the  city ;  the  thanks  of  the  Cham- 
ber of  Commerce  of  New  York  and  a  gold  medal ;  the 
thanks  of  the  State  of  Wisconsin,  with  a  gold  medal ; 
the  thanks  of  the  American  Chamber  of  Commerce  of 
Liverpool,  with  a  gold  medal ;  a  decoration  from  Victor 
Emmanuel,  King  of  Italy ;  an  entire  service  of  silver 
from  George  Peabody,  the  famous  English  banker ;  and 
other  tokens  of  gratitude  and  respect  from  far  and  near. 

Few  stopped  to  consider  the  years  of  patient  toil  and 
solicitude  the  author  of  the  cable  had  spent  to  make  his 
project  a  success.  Could  they  have  fully  appreciated 
this,  their  gratitude  would  have  been  increased  tenfold, 
with  honors  to  correspond.  The  author,  however,  felt 
well  rewarded.  He  had  become  a  benefactor  of  his 
race;  and  down  to  the  end  of  time  his  work  would 
continue  to  bless  his  fellow-men.  Though  it  had  re- 


82  TURNING  POINTS. 

quired  the  sacrifice  of  many  years  which  he  had  planned 
should  be  free  from  labor,  and  though  it  crowded  them 
with  trials  and  cares  that  he  never  dreamed  of,  his  cup 
of  joy  was  full  and  running  over  to  the  close  of  his  life. 
He  never  thought  that  the  cost  of  his  triumph  was  too 
much. 

Providence  moves  in  a  mysterious  way  in  using  leaders 
of  thought  and  action  to  advance  mankind.  Here  was  a 
man  of  marked  ability  and  power,  who  had  retired  from 
business  to  gratify  a  selfish  desire  for  travel  and  ease. 
He  withdrew  therefrom  as  he  supposed  forever.  But 
in  reality  the  best  and  noblest  part  of  his  life  he  was 
yet  to  live. 

Suddenly  the  thought  of  a  telegraphic  ocean  cable 
flashes  upon  his  mind.  It  takes  full  possession  of  his 
brain.  He  cannot  dislodge  or  ignore  it.  It  finally  con- 
trols both  brain  and  heart.  He  must  do  or  die.  It  is 
the  turning-point  of  his  life.  He  accepts  the  providen- 
tial alternative,  and  rises  to  greater  heights.  He  be- 
comes a  leader  and  benefactor  among  men,  —  honored  in 
life,  lamented  in  death. 


NATHANIEL   BOWDITCH.  83 


XI. 

NATHANIEL  BOWDITCH. 

THE    LIBRARY    THAT    MADE    HIM    A    MATHEMATICIAN. 

NATHANIEL  BOWDITCH,  the  great  navigator  and  math- 
ematician, was  born  in  Salem,  Mass.,  March  26,  1773. 
His  father  was  a  cooper  for  some  years,  a  business  that 
yielded  a  very  scanty  support  for  his  family.  Conse- 
quently he  became  a  shipmaster  when  the  Revolutionary 
War  broke  out.  He  was  an  industrious,  hard-working 
man ;  but  he  had  a  hard  fight  with  poverty  in  supporting 
his  large  family. 

Nathaniel's  mother  was  an  amiable,  affectionate,  Chris- 
tian woman,  thoroughly  devoted  to  her  family ;  the  whole 
care  of  it  resting  upon  her  after  her  husband  became  a 
shipmaster,  and  spent  most  of  his  time  on  the  sea.  She 
observed  evidence  of  Nathaniel's  marked  intelligence  be- 
fore he  was  three  years  of  age.  He  desired  to  learn, 
loved  books  and  school,  and  asked  a  great  many  ques- 
tions that  would  have  been  creditable  to  older  people. 

The  family  removed  to  Danvers,  three  miles  distant, 
when  Nathaniel  was  two  years  and  a  half  old  ;  and 
there  he  at  once  began  going  to  school.  His  brightness 
and  excellent  behavior  won  a  large  place  for  him  in  the 
heart  of  his  teacher,  who  was  a  good  Christian  woman. 
His  gentleness  and  uniform  obedience  impressed  her 


84  TUSKING  POINTS. 

deeply;  and  these  qualities,  united  with  his  love  of 
learning,  caused  her  to  predict  that  he  would  become 
a  distinguished  man. 

There  were  few  books  then ;  and  schools  were  very 
poor  compared  with  those  of  our  day.  Nor  could  the 
people  have  given  much  time  to  education  then  had 
they  been  rich  instead  of  poor;  for  the  Revolutionary 
War  was  engrossing  their  attention,  causing  great  anx- 
iety, and  aggravating  their  struggle  with  poverty.  The 
large  family  Bible,  however,  was  the  source  of  much 
information  and  enjoyment  to  the  children,  especially 
to  Nathaniel,  who  delighted  to  read  the  narratives  of 
the  Old  Testament  as  soon  as  he  became  a  tolerable 
reader.  The  book  was  laid  on  the  foot  of  the  bed,  and 
opened  for  them  to  peruse  at  their  pleasure,  the  mother 
answering  such  questions  as  their  inquiring  minds  might 
propound.  Their  mother's  prayer-book  (she  was  an 
Episcopalian),  also,  was  read  over  and  over;  and  its 
contents  were  appropriated  by  "Nat,"  as  he  was  called 
in  the  family  and  neighborhood,  so  that  he  had  it  "by 
heart "  by  the  time  he  was  six  years  old. 

At  the  age  of  seven  years  an  improvement  in  Nathan- 
iel's condition  occurred.  His  mother  removed  back  to 
Salem,  where  he  was  permitted  to  attend  a  better  school, 
taught  by  one  Watson.  Before  this  time  the  family 
was  so  poor  that  often  for  many  successive  days  their 
only  food  was  coarse  bread  with  a  small  allowance  of 
pork.  Wheat  bread  was  seldom  if  ever  provided,  be- 
cause it  could  not  be  afforded.  The  clothing  of  the 
children  was  as  scanty  as  their  fare.  Often,  all  through 
the  winter  the  boys  wore  their  summer  jackets  and 
trousers  to  school,  without  undergarments  or  overcoats. 


NATHANIEL  BOWDITCH.  85 

Some  of  their  schoolmates  were  inclined  to  tease  them 
about  wearing  summer  clothes  in  winter ;  but  Nathaniel 
took  it  all  in  good  part,  replying  that  such  clothes 
"  were  a  great  deal  better  than  none,  and  it  only 
proves  how  much  better  I  can  bear  the  cold  than  you 
can." 

Nathaniel  was  delighted  to  attend  Master  Watson's 
school :  first,  because  he  wanted  a  male  teacher ;  and, 
second,  because  he  could  give  more  attention  to  arith- 
metic, for  which  he  had  special  talents.  What  was  his 
surprise,  however,  to  find  Master  Watson  unwilling  that 
he  should  study  arithmetic.  "  Too  young,  too  young," 
said  Mr.  Watson ;  "  you  must  wait  a  while,  my  boy." 

Nathaniel  told  his  father  of  his  teacher's  decision. 

"  And  why  is  that  ? "  responded  his  father,  much 
surprised. 

"  He  says  that  I  am  too  young  to  study  arithmetic." 

"  Your  age  has  nothing  to  do  with  it ;  if  you  can 
understand  it,  no  matter  how  young  you  are.  I  will 
write  to  him  requesting  that  you  be  allowed  to  study 
it." 

So  Nathaniel  took  a  letter  from  his  father  to  Master 
Watson,  in  which  was  the  request  that  his  son  be 
allowed  to  pursue  his  favorite  study.  The  letter  caused 
Mr.  Watson  to  lose  his  temper,  and  he  was  very  angry. 

"Very  well,"  he  replied  at  last,  "I  will  give  you  a 
sum  that  will  satisfy  you ; "  and  at  once  he  gave  him  a 
problem  that  he  was  sure  the  boy  could  not  solve.  But 
Nathaniel  did  solve  it  in  a  short  time,  and  ran  with  it  to 
the  master's  desk,  expecting  to  receive  words  of  praise. 
What  was  his  surprise  to  hear  the  schoolmaster  cry  out 
in  a  rage,  — 


86  TURNING  POINTS. 

"  You  little  rascal !  who  showed  you  how  to  do  this 
sum  ?  I  shall  punish  you  for  attempting  to  deceive 
me." 

Nat,  fearing  punishment,  trembled  from  head  to  foot. 
However,  he  managed  to  overcome  his  alarm  sufficiently 
to  reply,  "  /  did  it,  sir." 

"  Don't  persist  in  lying  before  me,"  retorted  the  angry 
teacher. 

At  this  point  an  older  brother  interposed,  — 

"  I  have  no  doubt  that  Nat  solved  the  problem  with- 
out any  help ;  for  he  is  capable  of  doing  it.  I  myself 
have  taught  him  at  home  sufficiently  to  enable  him  to 
perform  such  sums." 

When  Nathaniel  had  just  passed  his  tenth  birthday 
he  was  forced  to  leave  home,  and  was  apprenticed  to 
Ropes  &  Hodges,  who  kept  a  ship-chandler's  shop  in 
Salem.  This  step  was  made  necessary  by  the  intemper- 
ate habits  of  his  father,  occasioned  by  losing  his  posi- 
tion, in  consequence  of  which  his  family  became  poorer 
than  ever. 

Nathaniel  was  errand-boy  and  salesman  in  this  store, 
where  everything  necessary  to  equip  a  ship  for  the  sea 
was  kept,  with  a  sailor's  complete  outfit.  He  had  a 
desk  in  one  corner  of  the  shop,  where  he  pursued  his 
studies  when  not  occupied  with  customers.  Here,  after 
the  store  was  closed,  he  would  frequently  study  arith- 
metic until  ten  o'clock  at  night.  During  the  long  win- 
ter evenings  his  employer  allowed  him  to  study  by  the 
kitchen  fire  at  his  house.  By  his  good  behavior,  polite- 
ness, and  accommodating  spirit  he  endeared  himself  to 
the  whole  family.  Frequently  the  kitchen  girl  wanted 
to  spend  an  evening  with  her  parents,  one  or  two  miles 


NATHANIEL   TtOWDITCH.  87 

away,  and  "  Nat "  would  take  her  place,  and  keep  the 
cradle  rocking  with  his  foot  while  he  pored  over  his 
books. 

His  employer  lived  in  the  house  with  Judge  Ropes, 
who  owned  a  good  library  for  that  day ;  and  the  judge 
permitted  "Nat"  to  take  books  from  it  whenever  he 
wished.  This  was  a  great  boon  to  the  boy,  and  he  made 
the  most  possible  of  this  opportunity.  Here  he  found 
"  Chambers's  Encyclopaedia,"  in  four  large  volumes  —  a 
treasure  of  knowledge  of  countless  value  to  him.  Mathe- 
matics and  navigation  were  treated  quite  extensively  in 
this  work,  also  astronomy;  and  his  interest  grew  im- 
mensely over  these  volumes,  and  his  mind  enlarged  rap- 
idly from  this  time.  Soon  he  was  found  making  dials 
and  other  instruments  for  testing  time  and  the  weather. 
Later  he  made  an  almanac  for  1790,  as  complete  as  an 
experienced  astronomer  could  have  made  ;  and  it  is  now 
preserved  in  the  Boston  Public  Library. 

There  was  another  library  in  Salem  to  which,  subse- 
quently, he  had  access.  Its  history  was  briefly  this : 
One  Dr.  Kirwan  of  Ireland  put  his  library  on  board  a 
ship  to  be  carried  across  the  Irish  Channel.  It  was 
during  the  Revolutionary  War ;  and  the  library  was  cap- 
tured by  an  American  man-of-war,  and  brought  to  Bev- 
erly, and  afterward  sold  by  auction  in  Salem.  Two 
clergymen  of  that  town,  Drs.  Prince  and  Bentley,  had 
become  interested  in  the  boy  Bowditch ;  and  they  intro- 
duced him  to  this  library,  which  grew  into  the  Athenaeum 
of  that  city.  American  books  upon  mathematics,  as- 
tronomy, and  navigation  were  few  and  much  inferior  to 
foreign  text-books  at  that  time.  But  in  this  Kirwan 
library  he  found  the  highest  authorities  among  European 


88  TURNING  POINTS. 

authors  upon  these  and  kindred  subjects ;  and  he  was 
suddenly  inspired  to  go  up  higher.  His  progress  be- 
came remarkable.  His  mind  stretched  its  wings  and 
soared.  But  for  this  library  of  foreign  works  he  might 
have  remained  content  with  inferior  achievements.  His 
gifted  mind  was  waiting  for  larger  opportunities ;  and 
here  they  were  offered,  and  he  accepted  them  without 
delay.  This  settled  the  fact  that  he  would  become  the 
great  mathematician  and  navigator  of  his  times. 

For  this  reason  we  say  that  access  to  the  Kir  wan 
library  was  the  turning-point  in  the  career  of  Bowditch. 
He  would  have  been  renowned,  no  doubt,  in  a  narrower 
sphere  if  this  boon  had  never  been  granted ;  but  this 
opportunity  opened  the  way  to  a  world-wide  usefulness 
and  renown.  Subsequent  events  in  his  life-work  will 
confirm  this  view. 

We  might  add  that  Bowditch  himself  took  this  view 
of  the  matter.  He  never  ceased  to  bless  the  names  of 
Drs.  Prince  and  Bentley  for  opening  this  golden  gate  to 
knowledge,  that  he  might  enter.  And  fifty  years  there- 
after he  bore  witness  to  the  fact  that  access  to  this 
library  determined  his  career,  by  leaving  one  thousand 
dollars  in  his  will  to  the  Athenaeum  of  Salem. 

He  made  thorough  use  of  this  library,  and  in  his  re- 
searches copied  much  into  manuscript  volumes  that 
seemed  to  him  most  valuable.  He  practised  this  excel- 
lent method  from  the  time  he  began  to  read  books.  The 
library  contained  volumes  in  the  Latin,  French,  and 
German  languages  ;  and  they  were  volumes  that  treated 
of  the  sciences  he  delighted  to  study.  So  he  mastered 
these  three  foreign  languages,  that  he  might  read  these 
books.  Beading  these  volumes  awakened  within  him 


NATHANIEL  BOW  DITCH.  89 

the  desire  to  visit  other  countries,  that  he  might  make 
himself  familiar  with  larger  and  better  works  upon  these 
subjects. 

So  thorough  and  safe  a  critic  was  he,  that  he  discov- 
ered a  mistake  in  one  of  the  greatest  works  of  modern 
times,  written  by  Sir  Isaac  Newton,  "  The  Principia."  A 
professor  of  Harvard  College  said,  on  having  his  atten- 
tion called  to  the  mistake,  "  Young  Bowditch  is  wrong." 
But  subsequently  the  professor  was  obliged  to  admit 
that  the  talented  youth  was  correct. 

When  he  was  twenty-one  years  of  age  he  sailed  from 
his  native  place  on  a  foreign  voyage.  He  went  as  clerk, 
but  performed  also  the  duties  of  sailor  and  mate  when- 
ever it  was  necessary.  He  was  absent  just  a  year. 
Soon,  however,  he  sailed  on  a  second  voyage,  and  was 
absent  fourteen  months.  Nor  was  his  seafaring  life 
terminated  until  a  fourth  voyage  was  completed.  Dur- 
ing all  of  these  voyages  his  spare  moments  were  devoted 
to  the  study  of  navigation.  Indeed,  he  arranged  that 
full  half  of  his  time  on  his  second  voyage,  and  nearly 
all  of  it  on  his  third  and  fourth  voyages,  should  be  used 
for  study ;  and  his  progress  was  rapid.  He  instructed 
the  crews  of  the  ships  in  navigation,  so  that  all  of  them 
became  sea-captains  at  subsequent  periods. 

It  was  when  young  Bowditch  was  in  Madeira  that  his 
shipmaster  met  a  mathematician  of  that  place,  to  whom 
he  spoke  of  Bowditch  as  a  young  man  of  great  ability, 
and  an  expert  in  mathematics. 

"  Well,  I  can  give  him  a  sum  he  can't  do." 

"  I  think  not,"  responded  the  shipmaster. 

"  Well,  I  will  wager  a  dinner  to  all  the  masters  in 
port  that  I  will  give  him  a  sum  he  cannot  perform." 


90  TURNING  POINTS. 

"  I  accept  the  proposition,"  answered  the  shipmaster. 

Accordingly  all  parties  embraced  in  the  wager  assem- 
bled at  the  dinner-table  of  a  hotel,  young  Bowditch  among 
the  number.  The  problem  given  to  him  for  solution 
was:  — 

"  To  dig  a  ditch  around  an  acre  of  land,  how  deep  and 
how  wide  must  that  ditch  be  to  raise  the  acre  of  land 
one  foot." 

This  problem  had  puzzled  the  gentleman  who  proposed 
it  for  three  months,  and  other  parties  in  the  town  had 
tried  in  vain  to  solve  it.  But  Bowditch  reached  the  cor- 
rect answer  in  a  few  minutes,  to  the  surprise  of  all  but 
the  sea-captain  who  knew  him  so  well. 

On  the  second  of  these  voyages  Bowditch  discovered 
many  errors  in  an  English  work  on  navigation,  by  Ham- 
ilton Moore.  In  consequence  of  this  discovery  he  was 
induced  to  prepare  the  "  American  Practical  Navigator," 
when  he  was  only  twenty-nine  years  of  age;  and  this 
work  came  into  general  use,  both  in  this  country  and 
Europe.  The  twenty-eighth  edition  of  this  work  was 
issued  before  the  author's  death. 

Subsequently,  also,  he  studied  the  works  of  La  Place 
thoroughly,  and  discovered  therein  many  errors.  In  one 
volume  he  found  twenty-four  errors,  which  were  cor- 
rected in  a  subsequent  edition,  proving  that  the  critic 
was  correct. 

Of  course  these  great  achievements  spread  his  fame 
while  he  was  yet  a  young  man.  In  the  estimation  of 
the  general  public,  including  scholars,  he  was  regarded 
as  a  prodigy.  At  twenty-nine  he  was  elected  to  mem- 
bership in  the  "  American  Academy  of  Arts  and  Sci- 
ences," a  distinguished  honor. 


NATHANIEL   BOWDITCH.  91 

Mr.  Bowditch  married  Elizabeth  Boardman  of  Salem, 
before  his  third  sea-voyage.  She  died  before  his  return. 
About  three  years  after  her  death  he  married  Mary  In- 
gersoll,  his  cousin,  an  accomplished  young  woman,  with 
Avhom  he  lived  thirty-four  years. 

In  his  busy  life  he  became  the  author  of  many  scien- 
tific articles  that  appeared  in  the  journals  of  this  coun- 
try and  Europe  ;  also  in  encyclopaedias  and  books.  His 
own  published  works  were  various.  He  was  elected  to 
the  Professorship  of  Mathematics  in  Harvard  Univer- 
sity, and  also  the  University  of  Virginia ;  and  about  the 
same  time  President  Jefferson  pressed  him  to  accept  an 
appointment  to  a  similar  office  in  the  Military  Academy 
at  West  Point  —  all  of  which  he  declined.  He  accepted, 
however,  the  degree  of  LL.D.  from  Harvard  University. 

Dr.  Bowditch  died  in  1838,  at  the  age  of  sixty-five. 
Just  before  he  expired  he  took  the  hand  of  a  son  stand- 
ing by  his  bed,  and  said,  "  Good-by,  my  son,  the  work  is 
done ;  and  if  I  knew  I  were  to  be  gone  when  the  sun 
sets  in  the  west,  I  would  say,  '  Thy  will,  0  God,  be 
done.' "  Observing  members  of  his  family  in  tears,  he 
added,  from  Hafiz,  a  Persian  poet,  — 

"  So  live  that,  sinking  in  thy  last  long  sleep, 
Calm  thou  inayst  smile  while  all  around  thee  weep." 


92  TURNING  POINTS. 


ULYSSES   S.    GRANT. 

THE    CALL    TO    ARMS    THAT    RAISED    HIM    TO    HIS    NICHE. 

JESSE  E,.  GRANT  and  Hannah  his  wife  were  a  young 
married  couple  living  at  Pleasant  Point  (Georgetown), 
Ohio,  when  their  first-born  was  welcomed.  When  the 
boy  was  six  weeks  old  he  had  no  name,  for  the  reason 
that  neither  father  nor  mother  could  find  one  to  suit 
them.  But  soon  they  went  to  visit  Mrs.  Grant's  parents, 
by  the  name  of  Simpson,  ten  miles  distant,  and  show  the 
baby.  About  the  first  question  asked  was,  "  What  is 
the  name  of  the  baby  ?  " 

On  learning  that  it  was  nameless,  they  were  much 
surprised,  and  Grandpa  Simpson  suggested  that,  if  they 
would  leave  the  matter  to  him,  he  would  fit  a  name  to 
him  before  dinner.  The  upshot  of  this  proposition, 
however,  was  the  decision  to  discuss  names,  and  then 
ballot  for  one.  Mr.  Simpson  was  in  favor  of  naming 
him  for  some  honored  ancestor.  A  maiden  aunt  desired 
to  name  him  Albert,  after  a  very  popular  public  man  of 
Ohio,  Albert  Gallatin,  who  was  then  (1822)  our  min- 
ister at  the  court  of  France.  Another  maiden  aunt 
in  the  family  preferred  a  fancy  name  as  more  appro- 
priate for  so  fine  a  boy.  Jesse  and  Grandmother  Simp- 
son had  read  "Telemachus,"  and  thought  the  name  of 
its  hero,  Ulysses,  was  fine. 


ULYSSES    SIMPSON    GRANT. 


ULYSSES   S.    GRANT.  93 

So  the  ballot  was  cast,  six  ballots  in  all.  Hiram  had 
one,  cast  by  Grandpa  Simpson,  in  honor  of  a  famous  an- 
cestor ;  Albert  had  two,  cast  by  the  child's  mother  and 
one  of  the  aunts ;  Theodore  had  one,  cast  by  the  other 
aunt,  a  fancy  name ;  and  Ulysses  had  two,  cast  by  the 
father  of  the  child  and  Grandma  Simpson.  Although 
Albert  and  Ulysses  had  each  two  ballots,  it  seems  to 
have  been  agreed  that  Ulysses  was  the  choice  ;  and  this 
was  the  name  the  child  carried  home  with  him. 

Ulysses  was  now  fairly  started  in  life.  The  race  he 
ran  will  appear  in  the  sequel.  Like  his  father,  Ulysses 
was  a'  bright,  thoughtful,  matter-of-fact  boy,  at  the  same 
time  possessing  some  of  the  traits  of  his  excellent  mother. 
He  was  obedient,  industrious,  and  very  apt  in  doing 
things.  At  school  he  was  studious,  though  not  a  pre- 
cocious pupil,  and  always  exemplary  in  his  conduct.  He 
illustrated  somewhat  the  remark  of  Dr.  Arnold,  the  fa- 
mous teacher  of  Kugby  :  "  The  difference  in  boys  is  not 
so  much  in  talent  as  energy."  He  excelled  in  arith- 
metic. 

He  was  but  six  or  seven  years  of  age  when  he  began 
to  assist  his  father  in  the  tannery,  first  by  riding  the 
horse  in  the  bark-mill.  He  loved  a  horse,  and  frequently 
was  sent  to  carry  passengers,  to  haul  a  load,  or  to  go  on 
some  errand.  His  school  lasted  only  a  few  weeks  of 
the  year,  so  that  he  had  much  time  for  labor  of  all  sorts. 
He  did  not  like  the  tannery  business,  and  yet  he  learned 
it  quite  well.  He  preferred  teaming,  driving  a  horse, 
farming,  choring,  and  even  going  to  school,  to  tanning 
leather. 

One  incident  shows  what  the  boy  was.  His  father 
was  absent,  and  Ulysses  employed  the  unbroken  colt  to 


94  TURNING   POINTS. 

haul  brush.  He  had  heard  his  father  say  that  he  was 
soon  going  to  draw  a  quantity  of  small  wood  and  brush 
from  the  forest  to  the  woodyard.  "  If  I  could  haul  it 
all  up  before  father  returns,  he  would  like  it,  I  know," 
he  said  to  himself.  Without  consulting  his  mother,  he 
proceeded  to  adjust  the  harness  to  the  colt,  and  suc- 
ceeded admirably.  Very  cautiously  he  approached  the 
cart,  somewhat  doubtful  whether  the  animal  would 
consent  to  be  hitched  to  that  affair.  The  colt  did  not 
raise  the  least  objection,  but  conducted  himself  with  as 
much  propriety  as  the  old  family  horse  would  have  done. 
Thus  it  was  during  the  whole  day ;  and  at  night  a  pile 
of  brush  as  large  as  the  log  schoolhouse  near  by  sur- 
prised his  father  on  his  return.  The  feat  was  the  topic 
of  remark  in  the  family  for  some  time. 

At  eight  years  of  age  he  did  the  teaming  for  the  tan- 
nery with  a  pair  of  horses  Avhich  he  handled  with  much 
skill.  He  had  not  passed  his  ninth  birthday  when  he 
drove  a  pair  of  horses  to  Cincinnati,  forty  miles  distant, 
to  bring  four  passengers  from  that  city  to  Georgetown. 
He  stopped  over  night  at  the  Dennison  House,  where  he 
became  acquainted  with  the  proprietor's  son,  William 
Dennison,  who  manifested  much  interest  in  the  "  child- 
driver."  This  William  Denuison  became  governor  of 
Ohio,  thirty  years  after  meeting  Ulysses ;  and  he  was  a 
member  of  President  Lincoln's  cabinet  when  Ulysses 
was  leading  the  Northern  army  to  victory  in  the  late 
rebellion. 

At  nine  years  of  age  he  purchased  a  colt  with  money 
he  had  earned,  —  seventeen  dollars.  He  bought  it  on 
speculation,  and  secured  his  father's  consent  by  arguing 
that  in  three  years  the  value  of  the  colt  would  double, 


ULYSSES   S.    GRANT.  95 

and  its  use  would  pay  for  its  keeping.  At  ten  years  of 
age  he  was  the  best  rider  of  a  horse  in  the  county. 
Horse-dealers  employed  him  to  show  off  their  animals. 
He  would  dash  through  the  town  standing  upon  the  bare 
back  of  the  most  spirited  horse. 

About  this  time  his  father  wanted  to  purchase  a  horse 
of  a  Mr.  Ralston,  a  few  miles  distant,  and  he  sent  Ulysses 
to  do  the  business.  "  How  much  did  your  father  tell 
you  to  pay  for  the  horse  ?  "  was  Ralston's  first  inquiry. 
Ulysses  was  strictly  honest ;  and,  after  turning  over  the 
inquiry  in  his  mind,  his  honesty  leaped  to  the  front. 
"  He  told  me  to  offer  you  fifty  dollars,  and  if  you  would 
not  take  that,  to  offer  you  fifty-five,  and  that  I  might  pay 
sixty  dollars  rather  than  not  get  the  horse."  Ralston 
thought  the  boy  was  verdant,  and  that  he  would  take  ad- 
vantage of  him  and  get  sixty-five  for  the  beast.  "  I 
shall  not  give  you  but  sixty  dollars,"  replied  Ulysses 
emphatically ;  "  I  shall  go  home  without  the  horse." 
Ralston  saw  at  once  that  he  had  mistaken  honesty  for 
verdancy,  and  he  sold  the  horse  for  sixty  dollars.  This 
fact  proves  that  Ulysses  possessed  three  valuable  ele- 
ments of  character,  —  tact,  push,  and  principle. 

Neighbors  regarded  him  as  a  worker  rather  than  a 
scholar.  They  thought  he  might  excel  in  some  indus- 
trial pursuit,  but  never  dreamed  that  he  would  amount 
to  much  in  any  other  occupation.  Therefore,  they  were 
much  surprised  when  they  learned  that  he  was  going  to 
the  military  academy  at  West  Point.  "  Lyss  going  to 
West  Point ! "  exclaimed  Lawyer  Devore  of  the  town. 
"  Why  did  not  Hamar  appoint  a  boy  who  would  do  credit 
to  the  town  ?  "  The  remark  proves  that  he  did  not  un- 
derstand the  boy  at  all ;  Ulysses  went  to  West  Point,  and 


96  TURNING   POINTS. 

he  did  credit  to  Georgetown.  He  was  not  so  brilliant  as 
some  students,  but  he  excelled  in  mathematics,  and 
was  a  model  of  behavior  to  all  in  the  institution. 

He  was  graduated  by  West  Point  when  he  was  twenty- 
one  years  old,  June,  1843.  After  a  furlough  of  three 
months,  which  he  spent  at  home,  he  was  appointed  bre- 
vet second  lieutenant  in  the  Fourth  Infantry,  stationed 
at "  Jefferson  Barracks,"  near  St.  Louis.  Two  years  after 
his  regiment  was  ordered  to  Red  River,  in  anticipation 
of  the  Mexican  War.  Grant  fought  his  first  battle  at 
Palo  Alto.  The  battles  of  Monterey  and  Chapultepec 
are  memorable  in  history  ;  and  young  Grant  distinguished 
himself  in  both  of  them  for  bravery  and  efficiency.  Major 
Lee  said  in  his  report,  after  the  battle  of  Chapultepec, 
"  Second-lieutenant  Grant  behaved  with  distinguished 
gallantry  on  the  13th  and  14th."  This  was  the  Lee  who 
became  commander  of  the  Confederate  army  in  the  late 
Civil  War,  and  surrendered  his  sword  to  Grant  at  Ap- 
pomattox.  Here  also  Grant  met  Robert  Anderson, 
Avho  was  commander  at  Fort  Sumter  in  1861,  when  the 
Confederates  fired  upon  it.  Young  Grant  was  in  every 
battle  of  the  Mexican  War  except  Buena  Vista.  He 
was  at  the  fall  of  the  city  of  Mexico,  the  last  battle  of 
the  war,  and  saw  the  flag  he  had  defended  unfurled  over 
the  national  palace. 

Grant  returned  to  St.  Louis  at  the  close  of  his  service 
in  Mexico  as  Captain  Grant  —  a  hero  of  the  Mexican 
War.  He  fell  in  love  with  Miss  Julia  Dent  of  St. 
Louis,  soon  after  he  was  located  at  the  "  Jefferson  Bar- 
racks ; "  but  her  parents  were  opposed  to  an  engagement. 
But  nevertheless  an  engagement  was  consummated,  and 
now  he  returned  to  claim  his  bride.  Her  parents  with- 


ULYSSES  S.    GRANT.  97 

drew  all  opposition,  for  the  young  soldier  had  returned 
a  hero ;  and,  besides,  he  saved  the  life  of  their  son  at 
Chapultepec.  He  was  married  on  the  22d  day  of 
August,  1848,  when  he  was  twenty-six  years  and  four 
months  old. 

His  regiment  was  ordered  to  the  northern  frontier, 
with  headquarters  at  Detroit.  There  he  began  house- 
keeping in  a  cottage  near  the  barracks.  For  about 
four  years  he  resided  here,  long  enough  to  win  the  con- 
fidence and  esteem  of  the  people.  Then  his  regiment 
was  ordered  to  Sackett's  Harbor  on  the  Pacific  coast, 
thence  to  Fort  Vancouver  on  Columbia  River,  Washing- 
ton Territory.  Here  Grant  became  homesick,  resigned, 
and  returned  to  St.  Louis  to  meet  his  wife,  who  was 
at  her  father's.  Relinquishing  military  life,  Grant  be- 
came a  farmer,  eight  or  ten  miles  from  the  city.  He 
was  poor,  but  industrious,  and  labored  hard  to  support 
his  family.  He  was  wont  to  haul  wood  to  St.  Louis, 
where  he  had  customers,  among  them  the  Hon.  Henry  T. 
Blow,  who  was  member  of  the  Thirty-ninth  Congress 
when  General  Grant  was  president.  But  our  military 
hero  was  a  failure  as  a  farmer ;  and  then  he  tried 
other  occupations,  with  no  better  success.  In  1860 
he  removed  to  Galena,  111.,  to  fill  a  clerkship  in  the 
leather-store  of  his  brothers.  A  host  of  friends  in  St. 
Louis  lamented  his  departure,  because  he  was  a  noble 
man.  A  pure,  clean,  reliable  neighbor  and  citizen  was 
the  record  he  left  behind  him. 

We  have  now  reached  a  point  where  we  may  well  stop 
and  reflect.  Grant  is  thirty-eight  years  of  age,  and  his 
life  has  not  been  a  success.  No  one  has  understood  him. 
From  youth  to  the  time  of  his  removal  to  Galena  no  one 


98  TUENING  POINTS. 

predicted  that  he  would  excel  in  any  pursuit.  So  far  he 
had  not  accomplished  quite  as  much  as  the  neighbors  of 
his  boyhood  predicted  when  they  thought  of  him  only  as 
a  remarkable  rider  of  horses.  The  real  man  Grant  had 
never  been  seen.  But  the  time  was  near  when  the  dor- 
mant general  would  awake  to  life.  The  guns  of  Sumter 
would  loose  the  tongue  of  the  silent  man. 

On  the  twelfth  day  of  April,  1861,  the  Confederate 
guns  were  turned  on  Sumter,  and  they  were  heard  in 
Galena.  Ulysses  S.  Grant  heard  them,  and  he  said,  "  I 
was  educated  at  West  Point,  and  if  my  country  wants  my 
services  it  can  have  them."  The  Hon.  Elihu  B.  \Vash- 
burne  accompanied  him  to  Springfield,  and  urged  Gover- 
nor Yates  to  commission  him  colonel  of  a  regiment. 
Grant  wras  too  modest  to  expect  so  distinguished  honor, 
and  hinted  that  he  might  not  be  able  to  command  a  regi- 
ment. Governor  Yates  was  as  much  puzzled  over  him 
as  the  neighbors  of  his  boyhood  were.  He  telegraphed 
to  the  book-keeper  of  the  Grants  in  Galena,  and  he 
replied,  — 

"  The  way  to  deal  with  him  is  to  ask  him  no  ques- 
tions, but  simply  order  him  to  duty.  He  will  promptly 
obey." 

He  was  immediately  commissioned  colonel  of  the 
Twenty-first  Illinois  Volunteers ;  and  instead  of  waiting 
for  railroad  conveyance  to  Mexico,  Mo.,  his  destination, 
he  marched  his  regiment  directly  across  the  country, 
drilling  them  as  he  went. 

Here  was  the  turning-point  of  his  career.  Until  the 
call  of  his  country  for  men  to  crush  the  rebellion,  he  had 
furnished  no  proof  of  ability  or  greatness.  No  crisis 
had  called  him  out.  His  natural  bent  was  unknown,  if 


ULYSSES  S.    GRANT.  99 

not  to  himself,  to  others.  But  all  was  changed  now, 
though  late  in  life.  Usually  men  are  understood  in 
early  life,  and  their  future  foreshadowed.  Grant  was 
nearly  forty  when  it  began  to  be  whispered  that  there 
was  greatness  in  him.  In  less  than  two  years  after  he 
had  expressed  a  doubt  whether  he  could  command  a 
regiment  successfully,  he  was  at  the  head  of  the  Ameri- 
can army,  —  a  million  men.  It  was  a  sudden  transition 
from  poverty  and  obscurity  to  affluence  and  renown,  a 
sharp  corner  that  he  turned  in  revealing  himself  to  the 
world. 

We  need  not  enlarge  upon  the  scenes  that  followed,  — 
the  story  of  Forts  Henry  and  Donelson,  of  Nashville 
and  Corinth,  of  the  grand  movement  down  the  Missis- 
sippi, of  the  siege  and  fall  of  Vicksburg,  and  a  score  and 
more  of  other  battles  that  proved,  in  rapid  succession, 
General  Grant  was  the  best-qualified  general  to  manage 
the  whole  army,  are  matters  of  familiar  history.  His 
commission  as  lieutenant-general  of  the  army  of  the 
United  States,  and  his  "  On  to  Richmond,"  with  the 
capture  of  the  Confederate  capital,  the  surrender  of  Lee, 
and  the  close  of  the  war,  are  facts  with  which  even  the 
school-children  of  our  land  are  familiar. 

That  a  grateful  nation  should  elect  him  president  of 
the  United  States  after  he  had  saved  the  republic  from 
overthrow  was  natural.  He  did  not  seek  the  office,  but 
the  office  sought  him  ;  nor  was  it  a  surprise  that  our  coun- 
trymen elected  him  to  a  second  presidential  term,  after 
the  successful  termination  of  his  first  term  ;  nor  that  a 
multitude  of  the  American  people  urged  him  to  run  for 
a  third  term,  011  the  ground  that  no  man  was  so  well 
qualified  as  he  to  bring  the  troubles  of  our  country  grow- 


100  TURNING  POINTS. 

ing  out  of  the  war  to  a  peaceful  conclusion.  Mr.  Ores- 
well,  who  was  almost  as  familiar  with  the  facts  as  Grant 
himself,  said, — 

"  He  did  not  desire  to  be  president  a  third  term  for 
any  glory  or  reputation ;  but  his  sole  object  was  to  recon- 
cile the  North  and  South,  and  I  think  he  would  have 
done  it  thoroughly.  The  '  Solid  South '  would  have 
been  a  thing  of  the  past." 

A  volume  could  not  contain  a  record  of  the  grief  and 
lamentation  that  spread  over  the  land  when  the  telegram 
announced,  "  General  Grant  is  dead."  Every  hamlet 
was  filled  with  mourning.  Symbols  of  honest  sorrow, 
from  Plymouth  Rock  to  the  Golden  Gate,  began  to  ap- 
pear; flags  drooped  at  half-mast,  bells  tolled,  public 
buildings  were  draped,  badges  of  crape  appeared  on  ban- 
ners and  the  arms  of  veteran  soldiers.  Everywhere  the 
habiliments  of  grief  told  the  touching  story  of  the 
nation's  loss.  Mourners  went  about  the  streets,  and 
their  sadness  said,  "  Know  ye  not  that  there  is  a  prince 
and  great  man  fallen  this  day  in  Israel  ?  " 

In  foreign  countries,  too,  king  and  subjects  united  to 
praise  the  character  and  successful  career  of  the  illustri- 
ous dead.  No  language  was  too  extravagant  in  which  to 
clothe  their  tributes  to  his  memory,  and  no  public  dem- 
onstration too  costly  to  express  their  respect  for  the 
fallen  hero. 

Dr.  Newman  said  at  his  funeral,  "  God  endowed  him 
with  an  extraordinary  intellect.  For  forty  years  he  was 
hidden  in  comparative  obscurity,  giving  no  indication 
of  his  wondrous  Capacity ;  but  in  those  four  decades 
he  was  maturing,  and  at  the  appointed  time  God  lifted 
the  veil  of  obscurity,  called  upon  him  to  save  a  nation 


ULYSSES   S.    GRANT.  101 

and   give    a   new  direction   to   the    civilization   of   the 
world." 

"  The  stars  on  our  banner  grow  suddenly  dim; 
Let  us  weep,  in  our  darkness,  but  weep  not  for  him! 
Not  for  him,  —  who,  departing,  leaves  millions  in  tears! 
Not  for  him,  — who  has  died  full  of  honors  and  years! 
Not  for  him,  —  who  ascended  Fame's  ladder  so  high ; 
From  the  round  at  the  top  he  has  stepped  to  the  sky! 
It  is  blessed  to  go,  when  so  ready  to  die." 


LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
RIVERSIDE 


102  TURNING  POINTS. 


XIII. 

OLIVER  CROMWELL. 

THE  MOTHER'S  TEACHINGS  THAT  SHAPED  HIS  LIFE. 

OLIVER  CROMWELL  had  strong  friends  and  enemies. 
If  the  former  compromised  the  truth  in  his  favor,  the 
latter  wrecked  it  in  order  to  prove  that  he  was  a  public 
scourge.  One  class  declared  him  to  be  "the  greatest 
man  in  England ; "  the  other,  with  equal  emphasis, 
denounced  him  as  the  "  wickedest  man  of  h'is  time." 
One  said  that  he  was  a  "  man  of  God,"  the  other  that  he 
was  in  "  league  with  the  Devil."  There  is  no  doubt  that 
his  friends  were  nearest  right. 

Oliver  was  born  at  Huntingdon,  April  25,  1599.  His 
father  was  well-to-do  in  worldly  goods,  strong-minded, 
self-willed,  with  English,  Scotch,  and  Welsh  blood  in  his 
veins.  A  biographer  says  of  his  mother :  "  There  is  a 
picture  of  this  excellent  woman  still  preserved  at  Hitch- 
inbrook,  which  represents  her  to  be  a  person  somewhat 
above  the  middle  height,  and  having  large,  pensive  eyes, 
a  finely  chiselled  mouth,  and  clear,  lustrous  forehead, 
manteled  with  bright  hair ;  the  whole  countenance  lit  up 
and  harmonized  by  the  sweetest  expression  imaginable. 
Oliver  loved  and  honored  this  admirable  mother,  and 
was  in  turn  tenderly  beloved  by  her  ;  and  this  fact  alone 
might  sufficiently  refute  much  of  the  ribald  calumny 
heaped  upon  his  youth." 


OLIVER   CROMWELL.  103 

Oliver  was  a  bold,  rough,  adventurous  boy,  full  of 
spirit  and  purpose.  Some  of  the  neighbors  said  that  he 
was  pugnacious  and  naughty,  inclined  to  join  bad  boys 
in  raids  on  orchards  and  melon-patches.  But  his  parents 
held  him  with  a  tight  rein,  and  chastised  him  severely 
for  pranks  and  disobedience.  Some  thought  that  his 
father  got  satisfaction  "  out  of  his  hide." 

When  he  was  seven  years  old,  and  was  on  a  visit  to 
his  grandfather,  Sir  Henry  Cromwell,  he  chased  a  mon- 
key to  the  roof  of  the  mansion,  and  scampered  over  it 
with  the  most  reckless  daring.  Beholders  looked  on  in 
mortal  terror,  expecting  every  moment  that  he  would 
tumble  to  the  ground.  But  he  maintained  his  equilib- 
rium with  perfect  coolness,  and  finally  alighted  upon 
terra  firma  as  gracefully  as  the  monkey  itself.  The  in- 
cident shows  that  the  boy  did  not  know  fear,  that  this 
was  no  part  of  his  make-up.  Resolute,  daring,  and  irre- 
pressible, he  maintained  his  individuality. 

At  another  time  he  was  guilty  of  some  naughty  deed, 
in  the  absence  of  his  father,  and  his  mother  inflicted  a 
severe  punishment  upon  him,  and  sent  him  to  bed  sup- 
perless.  Within  an  hour  a  servant  had  occasion  to  go  to 
his  room  on  some  errand,  when  Oliver  inquired  for  his 
mother.  He  was  told  that  she  had  gone  to  see  a  sick 
neighbor,  two  miles  away,  and  would  "  return  alone  by  a 
road  across  fields."  As  soon  as  the  servant  disappeared 
Oliver  sprang  out  of  bed,  and,  dressing  himself  with 
haste,  went  through  a  window  down  into  the  backyard 
unobserved  by  the  servants.  Looking  about  for  some 
weapon  of  defence,  he  seized  a  spade,  and  started  off 
upon  the  run  to  meet  his  mother.  He  had  travelled 
over  a  mile  when  he  met  her,  much  to  her  surprise. 


104  TURNING  POINTS. 

"  Mother  !  mother  !  there  is  a  savage  bull  in  the  field 
I  have  just  passed,"  he  exclaimed,  still  grieving  over  his 
merited  punishment,  "  and  I  thought  he  might  run  at 
your  red  cardinal,  and  so  I  slipped  out  and  came."  His 
mother  recognized  the  brave  act  instead  of  the  rus'e,  and 
kissed  him  by  way  of  approval.  On  returning,  they 
saw  the  bull  looking  fiercely  at  them,  but  he  made  no 
attack. 

When  he  was  a  boy  he  accidentally  fell  into  a  river, 
where  he  would  have  drowned  had  not  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Johnson,  curate  of  Connington,  fished  him  out,  and  sent 
him  home  soaked  to  his  skin.  Forty  years  afterwards, 
when  Cromwell  marched  through  Huntingdon  at  the 
head  of  his  Ironsides,  he  met  the  same  Rev.  Mr.  John- 
son, and  called  his  attention  to  that  episode  of  'his  boy- 
hood, to  which  he  received  the  following  reply :  — 

"  I  remember  the  circumstance  well ;  and  I  wish  I  had 
let  you  drown,  rather  than  see  you  here  in  arms  against 
your  king."  Cromwell  smiled  at  the  response  of  the 
reverend  gentleman  and  passed  on. 

Our  object  in  citing  these  facts  about  the  boyhood  of 
Cromwell  is  to  show  that  he  was  a  boy  out  of  which  it 
was  easy  to  make  a  scoundrel  or  a  tyrant.  Left  to  him- 
self, without  wise  parental  restraints,  there  is  no  ques- 
tion but  that  he  would  have  become  a  scourge  to  society, 
or  else  too  worthless  to  be  noticed.  But  his  parents  un- 
derstood him.  They  feared  the  worst.  Nothing  but 
implicit  obedience  to  their  commands  would  save  him. 
Rightly  trained,  his  chief  qualities  would  make  him  fa- 
mous as  a  statesman  or  general.  They  meant  that  he 
should  be  famous  instead  of  infamous,  if  parental  fidel- 
ity could  secure  such  a  result.  Both  were  honest  Puri- 


OLIVER    CROMWELL.  105 

tans,  prepared  to  defend  the  right,  and  to  die  for  it. 
They  believed  that  a  religious  life  was  the  only  life 
worth  living.  They  would  have  their  son  become  truly 
religious  above  all  things  else. 

Oliver's  mother  was  a  deeply  pious  woman,  and  she 
managed  him  as  a  truly  Christian  mother.  She  made 
him  familiar  with  the  Bible  in  very  early  life,  so  that  he 
understood  perfectly  well  his  duties  to  God  and  man. 
He  was  inducted  into  the  church  in  his  youth,  a  fact 
that  indicated  he  was  thoughtful,  exemplary,  and  desi- 
rous of  living  for  God.  All  through  his  life  he  was  noted 
for  his  acquaintance  with  the  Scriptures.  He  was  able 
to  repeat  whole  chapters,  and  even  books.  This  fact  in- 
dicates the  thoroughness  of  maternal  lessons.  He  was 
established  in  religious  truth  at  the  fireside.  And  this 
was  the  influence  that  kept  his  reckless  nature  from 
rushing  to  ruin. 

A  biographer  says,  "  The  talks  at  the  fireside  were  of 
the  atrocities  of  Elizabeth's  reign  ;  of  the  emigrants, 
sixty  to  seventy  thousand  of  them,  who,  driven  by  the 
persecutions  of  Philip  II.  and  of  Alva,  had  settled 
within  fifty  years  in  the  eastern  counties  of  England ; 
of  that  ecclesiastical  farce,  the  Hampton  Court  Confer- 
ence, which  gave  King  James  so  much  sport,  and  which 
caused  the  Puritans  so  much  disappointment  and  dis- 
tress ;  of  the  Spanish  fleet,  the  Armada,  which,  a  few 
years  before  his  birth,  had  been  sent  for  the  purpose  of 
conquering  the  country  and  forcing  it  to  become  Roman 
Catholic  ;  of  the  attempt  to  blow  up  the  Parliament 
House  and  all  the  Protestants  in  it ;  of  the  stabbing  by 
Jesuits  in  Paris  of  Henry,  one  of  the  Protestant  cham- 
pions of  the  day ;  of  King  James's  claim  to  '  absolute 


106  TURNING  POINTS. 

sovereignty,'  his  claim  to  '  freedom  from  all  control  by 
law,'  his  claim  to  '  the  power  to  alter  the  religion '  of 
men  and  women,  as  the  representative  of  the  Almighty, 
and  to  do  this  work  with  shears  and  branding-irons 
where  sermons  failed  ;  to  do  this  in  behalf  of  the  court  of 
heaven,  when  the  orgies  of  the  court  at  Whitehall  were 
the  derision  and  scorn  of  all  Puritans."  All  of  which 
served  to  discipline  the  fiery  youth  for  the  stirring 
times  he  would  meet  in  middle  life,  when  the  tyranny  of 
his  king  would  require  a  hero  to  battle  it. 

The  fact  must  not  be  overlooked  that  religion  and 
politics  were  identical  in  those  early  days  of  Cromwell. 
When  at  twenty-two  he  was  a  married  man  and  farmer, 
quietly  looking  after  his  sheep  and  cattle,  the  news  came 
that  the  king  had  been  to  the  Parliament  House,  and 
with  his  own  hand  torn  the  record  of  patriots'  votes 
from  the  statute-book,  and  "  sent  a  message  to  the 
members  forbidding  them  to  inquire  into  the  mysteries 
of  state,"  it  is  not  strange  that  a  young  patriot  like 
Cromwell  should  burst  into  a  blaze.  There  is  little 
doubt  that  his  strict  religious  training  took  on  a  degree 
of  political  resolve  that  had  much  to  do  with  his  public 
deeds  thirty  years  thereafter. 

That  his  mother's  efforts  to  form  and  establish  his 
•  religious  character  were  eminently  successful  is  clear 
from  the  piety  of  his  farmer  life.  In  a  letter  that  he 
wrote  to  his  cousin,  Mrs.  St.  John,  he  said,  "  Truly,  no 
poor  creature  hath  more  cause  to  put  himself  forth  in 
the  cause  of .  God  than  I.  I  have  had  plentiful  wages 
beforehand,  and  I  am  sure  that  I  shall  never  earn  the 
least  mite.  The  Lord  accept  me  in  his  Son,  and  give  me 
to  walk  in  the  light.  .  Blessed  be  his  name  for 


OLIVER   CROMWELL.  107 

shining  upon  so  dark  a  heart  as  mine.  You  know  what 
my  manner  of  life  hath  been.  Oh,  I  lived  in  and  loved 
darkness  and  hated  the  light !  I  was  a  chief,  the  chief 
of  sinners.  This  is  true,  I  hate  godliness,  yet  God  had 
mercy  on  me.  Oh,  the  riches  of  his  mercy  !  " 

Oliver's  father  died  when  he  was  a  member  of  Cam- 
bridge College  ;  and  he  immediately  quitted  the  institu- 
tion and  went  home  to  take  care  of  his  mother.  And  no 
son  ever  cared  for  a  parent  more  tenderly  than  he  did 
for  her.  He  recognized  the  debt  of  gratitude  under 
which  her  wise  counsels  placed  him,  and  proved  by  his 
affectionate  attentions  that  he  meant  to  repay  her  for 
motherly  fidelity.  Especially  did  he  recognize  her  influ- 
ence in  guiding  him  into  a  religious  life  ;  and  there  was 
no  sacrifice  or  self-denial  that  he  would  not  practise  to 
express  his  grateful  feelings. 

His  mother  was  living  when  Oliver  became  Protector, 
and  she  dwelt  with  him  in  Whitehall  Palace.  Every 
day  he  visited  her  room,  and  affectionately  inquired 
after  her  health,  exchanging  with  her  words  of  endear- 
ment. She  died  at  the  age  of  ninety -four,  in  full  posses- 
sion of  her  faculties.  Oliver  stood  by  her  bedside  in 
tears.  Looking  up,  she  said,  "  My  dear  son,  I  leave  my 
heart  with  thee ;  good-night."  These  were  her  last 
words.  With  the  tender  memories  of  a  grateful  son, 
Cromwell  laid  her  body  away  in  Westminster  Abbey 
with  the  honored  dead  of  his  country. 

Here  is  proof  that  the  faithful  teachings  of  the 
mother  saved  a  naturally  wilful  and  reckless  child 
from  ruin,  and  guided  him  into  a  noble  life.  The  peo- 
ple of  her  time  respected  and  loved  her  for  what  she 
was ;  and  the  people  of  our  time  honor  her  memory  for 
what  she  did. 


108  TURNING  POINTS. 

Cromwell  continued  to  be  a  farmer  until  he  was  forty- 
three  years  of  age.  He  had  been  a  member  of  Parlia- 
ment several  years,  and  was  called  "  the  farmer  member." 
But  he  had  not  entered  upon  that  public  career  that 
proved  his  power.  The  time  had  come,  however,  for 
him  to  step  forth  from  his  quiet  life  into  the  arena  of 
strife  that  prevailed  over  the  world.  National  troubles, 
that  began  far  back  in  the  reign  of  Elizabeth,  and  waxed 
worse  under  James  I.,  became  intolerable  in  the  reign 
of  Charles  I.  Cromwell's  opportunity  had  come.  The 
voice  of  God  roused  him  from  his  dreams.  He  threw 
off  his  farmer's  garb,  and  donned  military  dress  to  fight 
the  king.  With  no  military  experience  at  all  he  sprang 
to  the  front  as  a  great  warrior.  Trusting  in  God  to 
vindicate  the  right,  he  accepted  the  post  of  captain,  and 
went  into  battle  like  an  old  soldier. 

Within  a  few  weeks  after  entering  upon  his  military 
career  he  fought  his  first  battle ;  and  it  proved  a  revela- 
tion to  him  as  to  the  character  of  his  soldiers.  His 
experience  convinced  him  that  only  religious  men  could 
be.trusted  in  such  troublous  times  ;  and  he  made  known 
his  feelings  to  Hampden,  his  cousin.  Although  his 
cousin  thought  that  it  would  be  impossible  to  enlist  the 
necessary  number  of  religious  men,  Cromwell  proceeded 
at  once  to  raise  them  for  the  war ;  and  he  was  success- 
ful. They  were  chiefly  men  who  believed  in  God,  and 
the  final  victory  of  right ;  and  they  were  never  beaten 
in  the  hottest  conflict.  They  are  known  in  history  as 
"  The  Ironsides."  Their  battle-cry  was  "  The  Lord  of 
Hosts !  "  Hard  drinking,  profanity,  impurity,  violence 
to  women  after  victories,  and  kindred  evils  of  war,  were 
unknown  among  them.  Daily  prayers  were  offered,  and 


OLIVER   CROMWELL.  109 

they  engaged  in  battle  "  praying  and  singing  the  songs 
of  David."  They  were  great  in  war.  "  They  not  only 
crushed  the  armies  of  Charles  I.  and  Charles  II.,  but 
they  were  feared  in  France,  in  Spain,  in  Africa,  and  at 
Home."  Cromwell  often  preached  to  them. 

Here  is  striking  proof  that  his  mother  turned  him 
into  his  final  grand  career.  Her  religious  counsels  in 
childhood  and  youth  assured  a  religious  man.  Her 
views  of  God,  purity,  and  right  were  ingrafted  upon 
his  young  life  to  bring  forth  fruit  in  ripe  manhood. 
She  believed  that  the  highest  inspiration  to  duty  was  a 
firm  belief  in  God,  and  he  believed  it  also.  Hence  the 
existence  and  history  of  the  Ironsides,  whose  achieve- 
ments proved  that  both  mother  and  son  were  right. 

Of  the  Naseby  battle  Cromwell  wrote  to  the  Parlia- 
ment, "This  is  no  other  but  the  hand  of  God,  and  to 
him  alone  belongs  the  glory,  wherein  none  are  to  share 
with  him." 

In  one  of  his  private  letters  from  Ireland  he  wrote, 
"  The  Lord  is  pleased  still  to  vouchsafe  us  his  presence, 
and  to  prosper  his  own  work  in  our  hands ;  which  to  us 
is  more  eminent,  because,  truly,  we  are  a  company  of 
poor,  weak,  worthless  creatures.  Truly  our  work  is 
neither  from  our  brains,  nor  from  our  courage  and 
strength ;  but  we  follow  the  Lord,  who  goeth  before, 
and  gather  what  he  scattereth,  and  so  all  may  appear 
to  be  from  him." 

At  the  age  of  fifty-four  Cromwell  was  proclaimed 
"Lord  Protector  of  England,  Ireland,  and  Scotland." 
He  was  regarded  as  the  greatest  soldier  and  statesman 
of  his  day.  He  was  really  king  without  the  title. 
Carlyle  says,  "  No  more  perilous  place  was  ever  deliber- 


110  TURNING  POINTS. 

ately  accepted  by  a  man.  The  post  of  honor  ?  No ; 
the  post  of  terror,  and  of  danger,  and  forlorn  hope." 

Four  years  later  the  Protectorate  Parliament  pressed 
him  to  be  crowned  king ;  but  he  declined.  "  That  may 
be  fit  for  you  to  offer  which  may  not  be  fit  for  me  to 
undertake,"  he  said.  Their  importunities  for  him  to 
wear  the  crown  were  continued,  but  to  no  purpose.  "  I 
sought  not  this  place,"  he  said.  "  I  speak  it  before  God, 
angels,  and  men,  I  did  not.  You  sought  me  for  it ;  you 
brought  me  to  it." 

When  he  dissolved  the  Parliament,  in  the  midst  of 
almost  unprecedented  trials,  he  said  in  his  speech,  "  I 
can  say  in  the  presence  of  God,  in  comparison  with 
whom  we  are  but  like  poor  creeping  ants  upon  the  earth, 
I  would  have  been  glad  to  have  lived  under  my  wood- 
side,  to  have  kept  a  flock  of  sheep,  rather  than  under- 
take such  a  government  as  this." 

But  for  his  trust  in  God  he  never  could  have  borne 
the  burden  of  that  stormy  time.  As  it  was,  he  sank 
beneath  it  three  years  later,  the  most  powerful  ruler 
England  ever  had.  His  Christian  faith  never  wavered 
in  war  more  than  it  did  in  peace ;  and  at  all  times  his 
humble  dependence  upon  God  showed  how  his  mother's 
religious  teachings  fitted  him  to  antagonize  the  tyranny 
and  oppression  of  kings  in  the  interest  of  humanity  and 
right. 


JAMES    ABRAM    GARFIELD. 


JAMES  ABEAM  GARFIELD.  Ill 


XIV. 

JAMES  ABRAM  GARFIELD. 

* 

THE    MALADY    THAT    TURNED    HIM    FROM    SAILOR    TO 
SCHOLAR. 

IT  was  a  poor  log  cabin  in  the  wilderness  of  Ohio 
in  which  James  A.  Garfield  was  born,  Nov.  19,  1831. 
It  was  twenty  by  thirty  feet,  made  of  unhewn  logs, 
notched  and  laid  one  upon  another,  in  what  is  called  the 
"  cob-house  "  style,  to  the  height  of  twelve  feet  in  front 
and  eight  feet  on  the  back  side.  The  spaces  between 
the  logs  were  filled  with  clay  or  mud,  making  a  warm 
abode  for  winter  and  a  cool  one  for  summer. 

The  chimney  was  constructed  of  wood  and  mud,  ris- 
ing from  the  roof  like  a  pyramid,  smallest  at  the  top. 
The  roof  was  covered  with  slabs,  held  in  place  by  long 
weight-poles.  The  floor  was  made  of  logs,  each  split 
into  two  parts,  and  laid  the  flat  side  up,  hewn  smooth 
with  an  axe.  There  was  only  one  room  and  a  loft  above. 
The  family  slept  upon  straw  beds  in  the  loft,  to  which 
they  ascended  upon  a  sort  of  ladder  in  one  corner  of  the 
room.  A  door  and  three  small  windows  furnished  all 
the  light  possible,  though  not  what  was  necessary. 
Here  Garfield  began  his  career  in  poverty  that  pressed 
hard  every  day  and  hour. 

When  James  was  eighteen  months  old  this  hard  lot 


112  TURNING   POINTS. 

was  made  harder  by  the  sudden  death  of  his  father. 
It  was  on  a  hot  July  day  when  a  fire  was  started  in  the 
forest  and  threatened  the  destruction  of  their  humble 
home.  Forest-fires  were  frequent  in  summertime,  and 
pioneer  cabins  had  been  burned  and  crops  injured  or  de- 
stroyed. Abram  Garfield,  James's  father,  watched  the 
fire  with  great  anxiety,  until  satisfied  that  his  habitation 
was  in  danger,  when  he  rushed  forward  to  fight  it  as 
best  he  could,  followed  by  his  wife,  Thomas,  and  Mehet- 
abel.  It  was  a  fearful  battle  with  the  fire-fiend ;  and 
when  at  last  the  fire  was  conquered  and  their  little  cabin 
safe,  Mr.  Garfield,  thoroughly  heated  and  exhausted,  sat 
down  upon  a  stump  to  rest.  The  wind  was  blowing 
briskly  from  the  west,  and  was  very  refreshing  and 
pleasant,  so  that  he  did  not  dream  of  danger.  But  the 
peril  was  there,  nevertheless  ;  and  he  contracted  a  fearful 
cold,  that  carried  him  away  two  days  after.  Before  he 
expired,  looking  upon  his  four  children,  he  said  to  his 
wife,  "  I  have  planted  four  saplings  in  these  woods  ;  I 
must  now  leave  them  to  your  care." 

No  language  can  portray  the  sorrow  entailed  by  the 
irreparable  loss  of  that  noble  father  and  husband.  No 
money,  no  income,  no  school,  no  church ;  want,  unutter- 
able grief,  and  a  dark,  portentous  future  settled  down 
upon  the  household.  We  have  not  space  to  continue  the 
record  of  those  terrible  days,  and  can  only  add  that 
Providence  made  a  rift  in  the  cloud  before  many 
months. 

Later  on  a  school  was  opened  one  mile  and  a  half 
away.  When  James  was  nearly  four  years  old  he 
became  a  pupil.  His  noble-hearted  sister  Mehetabel 
carried  him  to  and  from  school  upon  her  back,  and 


JAMES  AS  RAM  GAR  FIELD.  113 

continued  the  hard  service  through  one  whole  term. 
James  was  a  rare  pupil  for  one  of  his  age,  and  his  prog- 
ress from  that  time  was  rapid.  The  schools  of  that 
day  were  very  poor  and  short,  but  James  got  all  that 
was  possible  out  of  them. 

At  an  early  age  he  was  compelled  to  work,  for  the 
family  were  in  want  of  food  and  raiment.  He  worked 
with  his  eldest  brother  Thomas  upon  the  little  farm, 
assisted  neighbors  whenever  they  had  a  job  for  him ; 
and  later  on  he  earned  his  first  dollar  by  planing  one 
hundred  boards  for  a  carpenter.  He  loved  work,  and 
could  turn  his  hand  to  almost  any  kind  that  was  done  in 
that  wild  country.  At  ten  he  was  called  "  the  boy  car- 
penter," because  he  could  handle  hammer  and  plane  so 
well  for  Mr.  Treat,  and  was  so  helpful  to  his  brother 
Thomas  in  building  a  barn. 

At  fifteen  years  of  age  James  became  clerk  for  a 
black-salter  by  the  name  of  Barton,  at  fourteen  dollars  a 
month.  The  manufacturer  of  potash  was  called  a  "  black- 
salter."  Here  James  found  a  class  of  books  that  he  had 
never  seen  before.  "The  Pirate's  Own  Book,"  Mar- 
ryat's  novels,  "  Sindbad  the  Sailor,"  "  Jack  Halyard," 
"  Lives  of  Eminent  Criminals,"  etc.  He  read  them  with 
great  avidity.  He  had  never  dreamed  of  any  such 
books  ;  they  set  his  young  imagination  on  fire.  He  took 
them  right  to  his  heart.  He  could  shake  off  evil  com- 
panions, but  books  were  not  companions  in  his  view. 
They  created  a  decided  hankering  for  the  sea  in  his  soul, 
and  made  him  restless  and  dissatisfied  with  his  occupa- 
tion. He  returned  home  after  a  few  months,  to  inform 
his  mother  that  he  must  go  to  sea.  His  mother  was  a 
very  wise  woman,  and  succeeded  in  bridling  his  desire 
for  the  time  being. 


114  TURNING   POINTS. 

Unfortunately  for  him,  however,  he  subsequently  en- 
gaged to  cut  a  hundred  cords  of  wood  for  his  uncle  on 
the  shores  of  Lake  Erie.  There  on  the  blue  bosom  of 
the  lake  he  daily  saw  vessels  going  to  and  fro,  and  the 
spectacle  fired  anew  his  desire  for  the  sea.  Nothing  in 
the  world  was  so  fascinating  to  him  as  the  graceful  craft 
that  sailed  those  placid  waters.  When  his  job  of  wood- 
cutting was  completed,  he  went  to  his  home  fully  deter- 
mined to  become  a  sailor.  He  could  not  take  no  for  an 
answer.  His  mother  reasoned  with  him,  and  portrayed 
in  vivid  colors  the  perils  and  corruptions  of  a  seafaring 
life ;  but  it  was  all  to  no  purpose.  He  must  go  to  sea 
or  be  miserable  all  his  life. 

Finally  his  mother  compromised  with  him,  and  con- 
sented for  him  to  ship  for  a  short  voyage  on  Lake 
Erie,  hoping  that  a  few  months  of  hardships  might  re- 
move his  mania  for  the  sea.  He  went  to  Cleveland  in 
search  of  a  position  on  a  lake  vessel,  but  was  not  suc- 
cessful ;  and  he  became  mule-driver  on  the  canal-boat 
Evening  Star,  commanded  by  his  cousin,  Captain  Amos 
Letcher.  He  remained  two  or  three  months  on  this 
boat,  proving  himself  to  be  a  faithful  and  efficient  em- 
ployee. During  this  time  he  fell  into  the  river  fourteen 
times,  the  last  time  saved  almost  by  a  miracle.  It  was 
on  a  very  dark,  stormy  night  when  he  was  called  from  a 
sound  sleep  to  steady  the  boat  through  a  lock,  for  he 
had  been  promoted  from  the  tow-path  to  bowman.  He 
was  uncoiling  the  rope  for  the  purpose  of  steadying  the 
boat  through  the  lock,  when  by  some  unaccountable  ac- 
cident he  was  hurled  into  the  water.  The  boat  went  on, 
and  not  a  mortal  on  board  knew  that  James  had  fallen 
overboard,  and,  of  course,  no  help  was  near.  A  watery 


JAMES  ABRAM  GARFIELD.  115 

grave  seemed  inevitable.  Fortunately  his  hand  seized 
the  rope  in  the  darkness,  and  he  drew  himself,  hand 
over  hand,  upon  deck.  The  rope  would  have  been  of  no 
service  to  him,  had  it  not  caught  in  a  crevice  on  the 
edge  of  the  deck  and  held  fast.  It  was  a  narrow  escape ; 
and  as  he  stood  dripping  in  his  wet  clothes,  his  thoughts 
ran  thus  :  — 

"  What  saved  me  that  time  ?  It  must  have  been 
God.  I  could  not  have  saved  myself.  Just  a  .kink  in 
the  rope  catching  in  that  crevice  saved  me,  nothing  else. 
That  was  almost  miraculous,  and  God  does  miraculous 
things.  Was  it  my  mother's  prayers  ?  She  is  a  pray- 
ing woman,  and  could  never  forget  me." 

Before  the  serious  reflections  evoked  by  that  accident 
had  worn  away,  James  was  attacked  with  fever  and 
ague,  and  was  obliged  to  return  home.  He  arrived  at 
ten  o'clock  at  night,  approaching  the  house  thoughtfully 
and  tremblingly.  Listening  as  he  laid  his  hand  upon 
the  latch,  he  heard  his  mother's  voice  in  prayer,  "  Oh, 
turn  unto  me  and  have  mercy  upon  me  !  Give  thy 
strength  unto  thy  servant,  and  save  the  son  of  thine 
handmaid."  Her  prayer  was  answered.  Mother  and 
son  were  united  in  loving  embrace. 

James  had  quite  a  long  siege  of  sickness.  For  sev- 
eral weeks  medical  aid  was  necessary.  On  becoming 
convalescent,  however,  his  old  passion  for  the  sea 
cropped  out,  and  his  mother  was  pained  to  learn  that 
he  still  longed  for  life  on  the  ocean  wave.  She  rea- 
soned, expostulated,  and  pleaded,  but  in  vain.  James 
was  fully  determined  to  become  a  sailor,  no  matter  what 
exposures  and  hardships  were  incident  to  such  a  life. 

A  Christian  young  man,  by  the  name  of  Samuel  D. 


116  TURNING  POINTS. 

Bates,  was  teaching  the  district  school  at  the  time,  and 
Mrs.  Garfield  thought  he  could  aid  her  in  this  exigency. 
So  she  called  upon  him,  and  made  known  to  him  the 
condition  and  purpose  of  her  son,  and  asked  him  to 
assist  her  in  turning  James's  attention  from  the  sea 
to  school.  Mr.  Bates  consented,  and  was  introduced  to 
James  while  he  was  not  yet  able  to  leave  the  house. 
The  interview  was  a  pleasant  one  to  both  parties,  and 
it  was  repeated  freqiiently.  Young  Bates  was  a  mem- 
ber of  Geauga  Seminary,  preparing  for  the  ministry, 
and  would  return  to  that  institution  at  the  close  of  his 
term.  He  advised  James  to  abandon  the  idea  of  a  sea- 
faring life,  and  go  with  him  in  the  spring  to  the  Geauga 
school. 

Here  was  the  crisis  in  James's  life.  Should  he  fol- 
low the  seas,  his  talents  would  be  buried.  He  might 
become  the  commander  of  a  vessel,  or  he  might  be 
kicked  about  upon  the  deck  of  some  ill-fated  cruiser, 
and  die  in  a  foreign  port.  The  highest  possible  attain- 
ment for  him  as  a  mariner  was  not  at  all  flattering  at 
that  time.  On  the  other  hand,  the  path  of  intellectual 
culture  was  bright  and  promising  to  a  boy  of  his  talents. 
If  his  mother  and  Mr.  Bates  could  make  him  see  the 
possibilities  of  an  earnest,  determined  effort  to  secure 
an  education,  his  fortune  would  be  made.  They  realized 
that  it  was  now  or  never  with  the  youth,  and  pressed 
their  claim  accordingly.  It  was  a  struggle  of  weeks, 
sustained  by  faith  and  prayer.  Less  persistent  efforts 
would  have  been  of  no  avail.  James's  strong  Avill  and 
purpose  needed  indomitable  and  persevering  labor  to 
turn  them.  And  this  was  accomplished  at  last.  James 
abandoned  the  idea  of  following  the  sea,  and  decided 


JAMES  ABRAM  GAR  FIELD.  117 

to  go  with  Bates  to  Geauga  Seminary.  There  James 
could  pay  his  way  by  job-work  out  of  school-hours,  cut- 
ting down  his  expenses  by  boarding  himself.  He  was 
fortunate  in  securing  an  opportunity  to  pay  his  way  by 
working  for  a  carpenter  after  school  and  on  Saturdays. 

He  proved  to  be  the  best  scholar  of  all  on  some  lines. 
His  progress  was  rapid  in  knowledge  and  character. 
He  was  popular  with  associates,  and  perfectly  reliable 
in  every  place.  The  following  winter  he  taught  school 
successfully,  and  then  returned  to  the  seminary,  where 
he  continued  three  years.  By  this  time  he  had  resolved 
to  fit  for  college,  and  entered  Hiram  Institute,  where  a 
higher  education  was  possible.  Here  he  swept  the 
school-building,  rang  the  bell,  worked  at  the  carpenter's 
bench  on  Saturdays,  and  thus  paid  all  his  bills.  He 
was  a  busy  student,  and  loved  study  with  all  his  heart. 
In  three  years  he  prepared  for  college,  and  entered  Wil- 
liams College  two  years  in  advance,  and  was  graduated 
by  that  institution  with  high  honors. 

He  became  principal  of  Hiram  Institute  on  leaving 
college  —  perhaps  the  most  popular  principal  that  insti- 
tution had  ever  had.  Soon  he  was  in  demand  for 
literary  lectures  in  neighboring  towns,  and  public 
speeches  on  special  occasions.  He  preached,  too,  almost 
every  Sunday,  here  and  there.  His  marked  talents  were 
recognized  everywhere ;  and  while  yet  a  young  man  he 
became  renowned,  and  was  called  into  political  life 
because  of  his  ability  and  fitness. 

He  was  a  member  of  the  State  Senate  of  Ohio  at  the 
outbreak  of  the  late  Civil  War,  an  intimate  friend  of 
Jacob  D.  Cox,  afterwards  major-general,  governor  of 
Ohio,  and  secretary  of  the  interior.  Fellow-members 


118  TURNING  POINTS. 

of  the  Senate  called  these  two  close  friends  "Damon 
and  Pythias."  Garfield  took  rank  at  once  with  the 
ablest  speakers  in  that  body.  One  night  he  said  to 
Cox,— 

"War  is  inevitable." 

"  Sure  as  you  live,"  answered  Cox  with  considerable 
emotion. 

"  You  and  I  must  fight,"  added  Garfield. 

"  Or  prove  ourselves  cowards,"  responded  Cox. 

"  Here,  then,  we  pledge  our  lives  to  our  country  in 
this  hour  of  peril."  And  they  clasped  hands  silently, 
such  emotions  stirring  their  breasts  as  only  patriots  feel 
in  the  solemn  hour  of  danger.  Soon  the  assault  on 
Sumter  aroused  the  North  to  arms.  Garfield  took  the 
field  first  as  colonel,  but  was  soon  made  brigadier-general 
for  bravery  and  efficiency.  He  won  unfading  laurels 
on  the  battlefield,  though  the  youngest  brigadier  in  the 
service. 

Next,  the  Eepublicans  of  the  Nineteenth  Ohio  Con- 
gressional District  elected  him  to  succeed  Joshua  R. 
Giddings  as  national  representative.  Garfield  was  at 
the  head  of  his  command  in  Kentucky  when  he  was 
elected  to  Congress,  and  knew  nothing  of  the  plan  until 
its  consummation.  He  was  very  popular  with  officers 
and  soldiers  of  the  army,  and  his  pay  was  double  that 
of  a  congressman ;  but  he  obeyed  the  voice  of  his  con- 
stituents, and  for  eighteen  years  was  a  leading  spirit  in 
the  House  of  Representatives. 

In  1880  his  native  State,  Ohio,  needed  a  United  States 
Senator,  and  Garfield  was  the  man  to  whom  all  eyes 
were  turned.  The  legislature  nominated  him  by  accla- 
mation. After  his  election,  Garfield  visited  Columbus, 


JAMES  ABEAM  GARFIELD.  119 

and  addressed  the  legislature.  A  paragraph  from  his 
speech  was  as  follows  :  — 

"  During  the  twenty  years  that  I  have  been  in  public 
life,  almost  eighteen  of  it  in  the  Congress  of  the  United 
States,  I  have  tried  to  do  one  thing.  Whether  I  was 
mistaken  or  otherwise,  it  has  been  the  plan  of  my  life 
to  follow  my  conviction,  at  whatever  personal  cost  to 
myself.  I  have  represented  for  many  years  a  district 
in  Congress  whose  approbation  I  greatly  desired;  but 
though  it  may  seem,  perhaps,  a  little  egotistical  to  say 
it,  I  yet  desired  still  more  the  approbation  of  one  per- 
son, and  his  name  was  Garfield.  He  is  the  only  man  I 
am  compelled  to  sleep  with,  and  eat  with,  and  live  with, 
and  die  with ;  and  if  I  could  not  have  his  approbation, 
I  should  have  bad  companionship." 

President  Hinsdale  said  of  him  after  his  election  to 
the  United  States  Senate :  "  He  has  commanded  success. 
His  ability,  knowledge,  mastery  of  questions,  generosity 
of  nature,  devotion  to  the  public  good,  and  honesty  of 
purpose,  have  done  the  work.  He  has  never  had  a 
political  '  machine.'  He  has  never  forgotten  the  day  of 
small  things.  It  is  difficult  to  see  how  a  political  tri- 
umph could  be  more  complete  or  more  gratifying  than 
his  election  to  the  Senate.  No  bargains,  no  '  slate/  no 
'  grocery,'  at  Columbus.  He  did  not  even  go  to  the  cap- 
ital city.  Such  things  are  inspiring  to  those  who  think 
politics  in  a  bad  way.  He  is  a  man  of  positive  convic- 
tions freely  uttered.  Politically,  he  may  be  called  a 
'  man  of  war ; '  and  yet  few  men,  or  none,  begrudge  him 
his  triumph.  Democrats  vied  with  Republicans,  the 
other  day  in  Washington,  in  their  congratulations ;  some 
of  them  were  as  anxious  for  his  election  as  any  Republi- 


120  TURNING  POINTS. 

can  could  be.  It  is  said  that  lie  will  go  to  the  Senate 
without  an  enemy  on  either  side  of  the  chamber.  These 
things  are  honorable  to  all  parties.  They  show  that 
manhood  is  more  than  party." 

Before  the  time  arrived  for  Garfield  to  take  his  seat 
in  the  Senate,  he  was  nominated  for  PRESIDENT  OF  THE 
UNITED  STATES.  It  was  in  the  National  Eepublican 
Convention  of  1880.  Garfield  was  not  a  candidate.  But 
after  thirty-four  ineffectual  ballots  for  a  candidate,  about 
fifty  members  of  the  convention  cast  their  votes  for 
James  A.  Garfield.  A  wild  scene  of  excitement  followed 
the  announcement.  The  delegates  of  one  State  seized 
their  banner  with  a  shout,  bore  it  proudly  forward, 
and  placed  it  over  the  aforesaid  patriot  and  statesman, 
followed  by  other  delegations,  and  still  others,  until 
seven  hundred  delegates  upon  the  floor,  and  fifteen  thou- 
sand spectators  in  the  galleries,  joined  in  the  heart-felt 
demonstration,  and  cheer  upon  cheer  rent  the  air,  as  the 
banners,  one  after  another,  were  placed  in  triumph  over 
the  head  of  their  hero,  declaring  to  the  world,  without 
the  use  of  language,  that  James  A.  Garfield  was  the 
choice  of  the  convention  for  president  of  the  United 
States ;  terminating  the  magnificent  ovation  by  the  sev- 
eral bands  striking  up,  "  Rally  Round  the  Flag,"  fifteen 
thousand  voices  joining  in  the  chorus,  and  a  section  of 
artillery  outside  contributing  its  thundering  bass  to  the 
outburst  of  joy.  It  was  a  wild,  tumultuous  scene,  yet 
grandly  rational,  —  the  spontaneous  outburst  of  patriotic 
devotion  to  the  country,  such  as  never  occurred  in  any 
political  assembly  before,  and  probably  never  will  again. 

The  remainder  of  the  story  is  known  to  the  whole 
world.  His  election,  inauguration,  occupation  of  the 


JAMES  ABRAM  GARFIELD.  121 

White  House,  noble  public  service,  assassination,  linger- 
ing, painful  sickness,  death  and  burial,  a  nation  in  tears, 
—  all  these  are  familiar  history,  none  of  which  would 
have  happened  had  not  an  unexpected  malady  forced 
him  homeward,  where  loving,  faithful  counsel  turned 
him  into  the  way  of  culture,  usefulness,  and  renown. 


122  TURNING  POINTS. 


XV. 

LUCRETIA  MOTT. 

THE    CHILD'S    DEATH    THAT    DETERMINED    HER    LIFE- 
WORK. 

LUCRETIA  MOTT  was  born  in  the  seaport  of  Nantucket, 
Mass.,  June  3,  1803,  of  a  Quaker  family.  She  was 
reared  in  a  very  simple  way,  unused  to  luxuries  and 
pleasures,  and  expected  to  assist  her  mother  in  household 
affairs.  Her  father  was  Thomas  Coffin,  a  sea-captain, 
and  therefore  away  from  home  much  of  the  time.  He 
was  a  man  of  great  energy  and  sterling  character.  Under 
the  influence  of  her  wise  and  excellent  mother,  Lucretia 
learned  all  about  housework,  which  meant  neatness  and 
economy  in  that  family.  At  the  same  time  she  laid  a 
good  foundation  for  an  education  in  the  public  schools  of 
the  town. 

There  were  six  children  in  the  family,  brothers  and 
sisters.  Although  poverty  never  entered  her  home,  yet 
it  was  necessary  that  industry  and  economy  should  be 
the  law  of  the  household.  Hence  Lucretia  was  drilled 
in  just  those  virtues  thab  assure  a  wise  and  lovely 
womanhood. 

Mr.  Coffin  removed  to  Boston  when  Lucretia  was 
twelve  years  of  age  ;  and  here  her  school  advantages 
were  much  improved.  At  first  she  attended  a  private 


LUCRETIA   MOTT.  123 

school ;  but  this  was  soon  exchanged  for  a  public  school, 
because  her  father  thought  that  mingling  with  the  poor 
as  well  as  the  rich  would  be  better  for  her.  That  he 
was  correct,  subsequent  events  proved.  For  here  her 
sympathies  for  the  needy  were  first  drawn  out.  The 
difference  between  her  own  experience  and  that  of  many 
of  the  pupils  was  a  revelation  to  her.  There  was 
started  in  her  mind  a  train  of  thought  for  improving  the 
condition  of  the  poor  and  down-trodden  that  influenced 
her  through  life.  In  womanhood  she  said,  "  I  am  glad 
of  the  change  from  a  private  to  a  public  school,  because 
it  gave  me  a  feeling  of  sympathy  for  the  patient  and 
struggling  poor,  which  but  for  this  experience  I  might 
never  have  known." 

When  she  Avas  about  fourteen  years  of  age  she'  was 
sent  to  a  Friends'  boarding-school  in  Nine  Partners, 
N.Y.  This  was  a  school  for  both  girls  and  boys,  under 
the  charge  of  James  Mott,  a  young  man  of  ability  and 
worth.  He  soon  learned  that  in  Lucretia  he  had  a 
school-girl  of  unusual  intelligence  and  scholarship. 

It  was  in  this  school  that  her  attention  was  first  called 
to  the  wickedness  of  American  slavery.  In  her  read- 
ing-book was  an  account  of  slave-ships  plying  their  in- 
human traffic  011  the  coast  of  Africa.  Her  soul  was 
harrowed  by  the  record  of  barbarity  disclosed  ;  and  the 
impression  upon  her  heart,  as  we  shall  see,  was  deep  and 
life-long. 

At  fifteen  she  became  assistant  in  this  school,  and 
proved  beyond  a  doubt  her  tact  and  ability  for  the  posi- 
tion. Her  observing  faculties  were  clear-cut,  so  that 
she  was  able  to  explain  and  illustrate  lessons  in  a  man- 
ner that  won  the  attention  and  admiration  of  pupils. 


124  TURNING  POINTS. 

Her  appearance  at  that  time  was  that  of  a  young  lady 
of  eighteen.  She  became  deservedly  popular  with 
scholars  and  patrons. 

While  in  this  school  her  father  removed  to  Philadel- 
phia, believing  that  the  change  would  greatly  facilitate 
his  business.  Lucretia  was  delighted  with  this  removal, 
as  it  brought  her  parents  nearer  to  her  school,  and  the 
Quaker  city  was  a  place  after  her  own  heart.  Her  visits 
thither  were  a  source  of  inexpressible  joy  to  her. 

Mr.  Mott's  interest  in  Lucretia  as  a  scholar  and  born 
teacher  ripened  into  love,  which  was  reciprocated  by  the 
artless  girl.  His  plans  were  made  for  a  change  of  occu- 
pation, after  thoroughly  canvassing  the  subject;  and 
when  Lucretia  was  eighteen  years  of  age  and  James 
twenty-two,  they  were  married  at  her  father's  house  in 
Philadelphia.  Her  father's  home  became  Lucretia's 
home,  and  her  husband  assisted  him  in  his  business. 
Captain  Coffin  was  much  pleased  with  his  son-in-law, 
and  congratulated  his  daughter  on  her  good  fortune. 

The  War  of  1812  spread  financial  distress  over  the 
country.  Many  business  men  lost  their  last  dollar. 
Failures  were  numerous  in  every  city.  In  Philadelphia 
the  "  hard  times  "  surpassed  everything  of  the  sort  in 
former  experience,  and  business  houses  went  down  with 
a  crash.  Among  the  unfortunate  was  Captain  Coffin, 
who  was  now  a  poor  man. 

James  Mott  was  in  trouble  now.  His  occupation  was 
gone,  and  he  had  a  wife  and  child  to  support.  In  such 
a  depressed  condition  of  business,  too,  it  was  very  diffi- 
cult to  find  employment.  But  the  young  couple  were 
heroic,  and  the  husband  soon  found  work  in  a  store  on  a 
salary  of  six  hundred  dollars  a  year. 


LUCEETIA  MOTT.  125 

In  the  meantime  Captain  Coffin  sickened  and  died, 
leaving  his  family  penniless.  James  Mott  felt  that 
Providence  had  cast  the  members  of  it  upon  him  for 
support,  and  he  manfully  looked  about  in  search  of  a  way 
to  increase  his  resources.  He  resolved  to  go  into  business 
for  himself,  and  rented  a  store ;  but  it  proved  a  failure, 
and  he  was  left  poorer  than  ever.  For  the  first  time  in 
his  life  he  was  inclined  to  yield  to  despair,  but  his  faith- 
ful and  brave  wife  came  to  his  rescue. 

"  James,"  she  said,  "  thee  must  not  be  discouraged ;  it 
is  not  a  good  time  to  give  up.  My  cousin  and  I  will  open 
a  school." 

The  school  was  opened  with  four  pupils,  who  were  to 
pay  seven  dollars  a  quarter.  This  was  not  a  flattering 
beginning;  but  Lucretia  put  so  much  heart  into  the 
work,  and  made  things  so  cheerful  and  interesting,  that 
soon  forty  pupils  crowded  the  room.  The  school  was 
a  great  success.  Her  husband,  too,  secured  a  situation, 
with  a  salary  of  one  thousand  dollars.  They  were  never 
so  prosperous  as  now,  and  never  more  happy. 

Their  joy,  however,  was  interrupted  by  an  unexpected 
sorrow.  Their  eldest  child,  a  bright,  beautiful  boy  of 
four  or  five  years,  died  suddenly  ;  his  last  words  being, 
"  I  love  thee,  mother  ! "  The  parents  were  not  Chris- 
tians, though  very  exemplary,  and  so  they  were  without 
the  only  adequate  support  under  such  a  trial.  They 
were  completely  overwhelmed,  and  gave  themselves  up 
to  mourning  night  and  day.  For  a  time  it  seemed  that 
the  loss  of  their  son  would  unfit  them  for  further  work. 
Lucretia  was  utterly  prostrated,  and  refused  to  be  com- 
forted. The  charm  of  life  vanished  with  her  darling 
boy.  She  had  little  to  live  for  now,  so  she  thought ; 
even  death  would  be  welcome  to  her. 


126  TURNING  POINTS. 

But  "  man's  extremity  is  God's  opportunity."  It  was 
a  providential  sorrow,  with  infinite  meaning.  It  proved 
to  be  the  crisis  of  her  life ;  and  out  of  the  affliction  she 
came  with  a  new  heart.  She  saw  the  hand  and  heard 
the  voice  of  her  Lord,  and  responded  with  a  glad  spirit, 
"Here  am  I."  Henceforth  she  would  live  a  Christian 
heroine,  and  suffering  humanity  should  rejoice  in  her 
love  and  deeds.  There  was  no  reserve.  She  just  laid 
herself  upon  the  altar,  praising  God  that  out  of  sorrow 
a  great  joy  had  taken  possession  of  her  soul,  and  out  of 
darkness  a  great  light  had  risen. 

Now  her  experience  in  the  public  schools  of  Boston, 
awakening  sympathy  for  those  who  were  struggling  to 
exist,  as  well  as  her  horror  of  the  slave-trade,  begotten 
by  reading  of  the  slave-ships  at  school,  served  her  a 
good  purpose.  Evidently  the  All- Wise  was  disciplining 
her  for  a  higher  and  nobler  life.  She  had  been  led  in  a 
way  she  knew  not ;  but  now  she  saw  clearly  who  had 
led  her  in  the  unknown  way,  and  she  resolved  to  know 
no  will  but  his. 

The  severest  trial  of  her  life  resulted  in  the  greatest 
blessing.  The  death  of  her  boy  proved  life  to  her  soul. 
But  for  this  bereavement  she  might  have  lived  con- 
tentedly for  herself  and  family ;  but  this  caused  her  to 
live  henceforth  for  mankind.  She  recognized,  too,  her 
debt  of  gratitude  to  God  for  a  noble  husband  and  dear 
children  left.  She  blamed  -herself  for  overlooking  these 
great  blessings  and  yielding  to  unreasonable  grief.  "With 
sanctified  affection,  and  a  new,  clear  view  of  a  mother's 
duties,  she  devoted  herself  to  the  care  and  culture  of 
her  three  children  left.  She  wrote  of  that  time,  "I 
omitted  much  unnecessary  stitching  and  ornamental 


LUCBETIA   MOTT.  127 

work  in  the  sewing  for  my  family,  so  that  I  might  have 
more  time  for  the  improvement  of  my  mind.  For  novels 
and  light  reading  I  never  had  much  taste ;  the  ladies' 
department  in  the  periodicals  had  no  attractions  for 
me." 

The  Bible,  a  few  theological  books,  and  the  best  works 
in  philosophy  and  science  she  selected  in  her  plans  for 
self-culture ;  and  devoted  herself  to  their  study  with  an 
industry  and  economy  of  time  such  as  are  seen  only 
where  a  high  sense  of  duty  determines  action.  Nor  did 
she  neglect  her  family  in  the  least;  but  a  divine  tact 
and  enthusiasm  seemed  to  qualify  her  for  manifold 
duties. 

Her  husband  was  prospering  in  the  cotton  business, 
so  that  she  could  give  some  attention  to  the  poor,  and 
attend  "  Friends' "  meetings  in  the  vicinity,  Avhere  the 
good  Quakers  welcomed  her  with  glad  hearts.  Her  voice 
was  heard  in  prayer  and  speech ;  and  listeners  thanked 
the  Lord  for  the  ''gift,"  as  they  called  her  charming 
use  of  language.  Her  influence  grew  and  spread.  All 
sects  wished  her  God-speed.  Her  husband  fully  sym- 
pathized with  her  in  all  of  her  philanthropic  efforts, 
and  often  accompanied  her  on  benevolent  missions. 
The  mutual  love  of  their  youth  had  been  welded  to- 
gether in  the  furnace  of  affliction. 

On  Dec.  4,  1833,  there  was  a  convention  in  Phila- 
delphia to  organize  the  "American  Anti-slavery  Soci- 
ety," and  Mrs.  Mott  was  there.  She  was  one  of  four 
women  who  had  the  courage  to  array  themselves  against 
slavery,  in  the  face  of  obliquy  and  reproach;  and  all 
four  were  at  the  convention.  At  that  time  anti-slavery 
men  and  women  were  maligned  and  persecuted  shame- 


128  TURNING  POINTS. 

fully,  so  that  the  organization  of  the  "  American  Anti- 
slavery  Society  "  was  a  challenge  to  the  friends  of 
human  bondage.  Mrs.  Mott  took  in  the  situation  as 
one  who  believed  in  God  and  the  right,  and  she  ad- 
dressed the  convention  calmly  but  decisively.  Her 
swee^t,  tender  voice,  her  honest  and  fearless  attitude, 
and  her  fervid  eloquence  won  all  hearts.  From  that 
time  she  became  a  leader  in  the  anti-slavery  cause. 

Subsequently,  when  addressing  a  convention  of  aboli- 
tionists in  Philadelphia,  the  hall  was  attacked  by  a  mob, 
the  windows  broken  by  stones,  and,  as  soon  as  the  meet- 
ing was  adjourned,  the  building  was  set  on  fire  and 
burned  to  ashes.  Then  the  mob  started  for  the  house 
of  Mrs.  Mott.  A  messenger  was  despatched  in  haste 
to  inform  her  of  the  fact,  when  she  sent  her  children 
to  a  neighbor's,  and  calmly  sat  down  in  her  parlor  "with 
a  few  friends  to  await  probable  death.  In  the  crowd 
of  rioters  was  a  young  man  who  did  not  want  Mrs. 
Mott  harmed,  though  he  hated  negroes.  So  he  rushed 
up  another  street,  crying,  "  On  to  Mott's ! "  and  led 
them  in  another  direction,  and  thus  saved  the  devoted 
woman. 

Mr.  Mott  was  a  live  anti-slavery  man,  and  often 
spoke  with  his  wife  in  public  meetings.  Both  became 
familiar  with  mobs ;  and  in  New  York,  Baltimore,  and 
other  places  their  lives  were  put  in  jeopardy.  But  no 
amount  of  opposition  could  scare  them  into  silence. 
Nor  did  they  confine  their  labors  to  anti-slavery;  the 
temperance  cause  received  their  hearty  and  enthusiastic 
support.  The  cause  of  woman  suffrage  also,  and  the 
settlement  of  trouble  among  nations  by  arbitration  in- 
stead of  war,  found  strong  allies  in  them. 


LUCEETIA   MOTT.  129 

Mrs.  Mott  became  as  well  known  in  Great  Britain 
almost  as  she  was  at  home ;  and  she  visited  that  coun- 
try by  request,  to  address  anti-slavery  meetings.  On 
her  return  she  visited  many  State  legislatures,  and 
addressed  them  upon  the  abolition  of  slavery.  Her  elo- 
quence, fairness,  and  downright  earnestness  won  friends 
wherever  she  went. 

The  Mott  residence  in  Philadelphia  was  large,  and  its 
doorbell  was  often  rung  by  people  asking  alms.  Two 
chairs  were  placed  in  the  front  hall ;  and  they  were 
occupied  so  much  of  the  time  by  this  class,  that  they 
were  christened  "  beggars'  chairs."  Fugitive  slaves 
were  prominent  among  the  callers,  on  their  way  to 
liberty.  They  knew  where  to  find  a  friend  and  money 
to  help  them  on  toward  the  North  Star. 

And  with  all  this  work  and  interruption  she  looked 
well  to  the  ways  of  her  household.  She  wrote  to  a 
friend,  "  I  prepared  mince  for  forty  pies,  doing  every 
part  myself,  even  to  meat-chopping;  picked  over  lots 
of  apples,  stewed  a  quantity,  chopped  some  more,  and 
made  apple-pudding,  all  of  which  kept  me  on  my  feet 
till  almost  two  o'clock,  having  to  come  into  the  parlor 
every  now  and  then  to  receive  guests." 

She  was  greatly  beloved  and  respected  in  age  for  her 
fortitude,  philanthropy,  arid  pious  devotion  to  every 
good  cause.  Often  she  met  strangers  on  the  street  who 
would  say,  "  God  bless  you,  Mrs.  Mott ! "  or  some  kin- 
dred benediction.  Attorney-General  Brewster  once  said 
to  her  son-in-law,  Edward  Hopper,  "I  have  heard  a 
great  deal  about  your  mother-in-law,  Hopper;  but  I 
never  saw  her  before  to-day.  She  is  an  angel."  Sev- 
eral years  afterwards,  when  Mr.  Brewster  had  changed 


130  TURNING   POINTS. 

his  political  opinions,  a  friend  asked  him  how  he  dared 
do  it,  to  which  he  replied  "  Do  you  think  there  is  any- 
thing I  dare  not  do  after  facing  Lucretia  Mott  in  that 
courtroom  ?  " 

On  a  visit  to  their  grandchildren  in  Brooklyn,  N.Y., 
Mr.  Mott  was  attacked  Avith  pneumonia  and  died.  When 
taken  ill  he  expressed  to  his  wife  a  wish  to  go  home, 
but  added,  "  I  suppose  I  shall  die  here,  and  then  I  shall 
be  at  home;  it  is  just  as  well."  An  acquaintance  re- 
marked, after  Mr.  Mott's  death,  "I  believe  it  was  the 
most  perfect  wedded  life  to  be  found  on  earth."  Mrs. 
Mott  answered,  smiling  through  her  tears,  "James  and 
I  loved  each  other  more  ever  since  we  worked  together 
for  a  great  cause.  I  do  not  mourn,  but  rather  remember 
my  blessings,  and  the  blessing  of  his  long  life  with 
me." 

Mrs.  Mott  lived  twelve  years  longer,  and  died  at  the 
age  of  eighty-seven.  Her  last  words  were,  "If  you 
resolve  to  follow  the  Lamb  wherever  you  may  be  led, 
you  will  find  all  the  ways  pleasant,  and  the  paths  peace. 
Let  me  go ! "  In  silence  a  large  company  gathered 
around  the  open  grave,  waiting  to  receive  the  honored 
dead,  when  a  low  voice  broke  the  silence  by  saying, 
"  Will  no  one  say  anything  ?  "  Another  voice  re- 
sponded, "  Who  can  speak  ?  the  preacher  is  dead !  " 

A  great  sorrow  turned  an  ordinary  life  into  a  world- 
wide blessing. 


GEORGE    PEABODY. 


GEORGE  PEABODY.  131 


XVI. 

GEORGE    PEABODY. 

THE    CALAMITY    THAT    MADE    HIM    A    BANKER. 

GEORGE  PEABODY,  the  great  London  banker,  was  born 
in  Danvers,  Mass.,  on  Feb.  18,  1795.  His  parents  were 
very  poor,  as  were  nearly  all  parents  at  that  time. 
Their  children  enjoyed  few  opportunities  to  improve  in 
knowledge  or  wisdom.  George  had  no  better  opportu- 
nity than  other  poor  boys  ;  but  his  high  aim  and  persist- 
ent efforts  made  the  most  of  what  he  had.  He  was 
always  climbing,  going  up  higher  and  higher,  growing 
wiser  and  wiser. 

At  eleven  years  of  age  he  bade  farewell  to  home  and 
school,  and  began  to  serve  in  the  grocery-store  of  his 
native  town.  An  obedient,  affectionate,  industrious  boy 
at  home,  he  had  no  thought  of  being  anything  else  in 
the  store.  He  was  manly,  quick-witted,  and  polite,  just 
the  boy  to  gain  the  confidence  of  his  employer  and  the 
esteem  of  patrons.  All  learned  very  soon  to  esteem  him 
for  his  ability  and  worth. 

George  loved  books,  and  was  truly  sorry  to  be  obliged 
to  quit  school  forever.  But  he  could  do  the  next  best 
thing,  improve  his  leisure  time  by  reading.  His  em- 
ployer had  a  few  books,  and  also  the  neighbors,  who 
were  glad  to  loan  them  to  so  promising  a  boy.  But  he 


132  TUSNIXG   POINTS. 

never  allowed  reading  or  any  other  recreation  to  inter- 
fere with  his  business.  His  first  duty  was  to  his  em- 
ployer, and  he  thoroughly  identified  himself  with  the 
business  of  the  grocery  as  if  it  were  his  own.  Still  he 
found  spare  moments  enough  for  reading  to  make  his 
progress  in  knowledge  and  intellectual  discipline 
remarkable. 

He  spent  four  years  in  the  grocer's  employ,  at  the 
close  of  which  he  was  left  an  orphan,  without  home  or 
money.  Circumstances  made  a  change  desirable  ;  and 
George  removed  to  Thetford,  Yt.,  to  live  with  his  mater- 
nal grandfather  on  a  farm.  Here  he  proved  himself  the 
same  true,  thoughtful,  handy,  and  faithful  boy  that  he 
was  in  Danvers.  So  competent,  gentlemanly,  right- 
minded,  and  faithful  was  he,  that  his  grandfather  pre- 
dicted for  him  a  distinguished  career  in  manhood. 

George  lived  at  Thetford  only  one  year.  His  brother 
David  was  proprietor  of  a  draper's  shop  in  Newburyport, 
Mass. ;  and,  needing  a  clerk  very  much,  he  prevailed  upon 
George  to  accept  the  position.  It  was  a  very  pleasant 
change  for  him,  because  he  specially  loved  mercantile 
business.  He  entered  upon  his  new  duties  with  high 
hopes.  He  saw  business  in  his  new  field  for  the  future 
of  his  life ;  and  this  idea  inspired  him  to  do  his  best. 
Early  and  late  he  devoted  himself  to  the  work  in  hand, 
and  every  day  he  grew  in  competency.  His  brother 
looked  on  with  delight  and  admiration.  George  dis- 
played more  tact  and  ability  than  he  expected.  He  was 
superior  to  any  youth  of  his  age  in  all  his  acquaintance 
for  business  and  for  society.  He  was  a  drawing-card  for 
the  shop.  People  liked  him.  Customers  found  him  to 
be  a  young  man  of  unusual  intelligence  and  probity. 


GEORGE  PEABODY.  133 

They  enjoyed  trading  with  him.  His  suavity  and  hon- 
esty attracted  buyers,  and  the  sales  increased.  The 
business  promised  unexpected  success.  And  all  this 
strengthened  the  hopes  of  George ;  he  was  sure  that  he 
had  found  his  life-work. 

But  one  night  when  he  was  at  the  height  of  his  expec- 
tations the  store  took  fire  and  was  burned  to  the  ground, 
with  all  its  contents.  The  last  dollar  David  possessed 
vanished  in  the  flames.  Both  he  and  George  were  thus 
suddenly  deprived  of  an  occupation.  One  was  as  poor 
as  the  other,  and  that  was  poor  enough.  What  next  ? 

The  feelings  of  George  can  better  be  imagined  than 
described.  Here  he  was  homeless  and  penniless,  not 
knowing  which  way  to  turn  for  food  and  clothes.  If  a 
youth  ever  had  reason  to  give  up  in  despair,  George  had ; 
but  he  was  not  one  of  that  sort.  He  believed  in  hard 
work,  and  he  believed  iii  himself  also.  He  had  the  will, 
and  he  knew  that  it  could  make  a  way.  He  had  no 
idea  of  sitting  down  in  discouragement,  and  saying,  "  It 
is  no  use  ;  everything  is  against  me."  He  was  not  built 
on  that  plan.  Rather  was  he  aroused  to  new  endeavors, 
to  take  a  new  lease  of  life. 

George  cast  about  for  something  to  do.  He  was  pre- 
pared to  accept  almost  anything  in  the  line  of  useful 
work.  But  it  was  not  a  good  time  for  business  in  New 
England  then,  and  the  prospect  was  not  very  bright  for 
a  poor  boy  to  retrieve  his  fortune.  He  cast  about,  how- 
ever, for  a  field  of  labor.  He  could  not  find  "it  in  New- 
buryport ;  nor  could  he  learn  of  one  elsewhere. 

His  Uncle  John  was  doing  business  in  Georgetown, 
District  of  Columbia,  and  very  naturally  George  thought 
of  him  ;  and  the  more  he  reflected,  the  more  the  prospect 


134  TUEN1NG  POINTS. 

brightened.  Why  should  he  not  go  to  Georgetown  at 
once  ?  No  sooner  had  he  asked  the  question  than  he 
answered  it  —  I  WILL  GO. 

Here  was  the  turning-point  in  his  eventful  career,  as 
we  shall  learn  from  what  follows.  The  calamity  that 
destroyed  his  occupation  proved  a  blessing  in  disguise. 
It  forced  him  into  a  larger,  wider,  grander  field  of  effort. 
But  for  the  conflagration  he  might  have  remained  in  the 
draper's  shop  during  his  natural  life,  without  being  known 
beyond  the  limits  of  his  own  town.  He  would  have  been 
known  and  honored  there  ;  for  such  a  youth  cannot  live 
and  grow  up  into  manhood  without  being  well  known 
and  honored  in  the  town  where  he  toils.  But  his  mis- 
fortune opened  the  way  to  larger  business  and  world- 
wide influence.  He  saw  it  not  then;  but  at  forty  he 
traced  with  delight  the  way  in  which  the  Lord  had  led 
him.  In  the  draper's  limited  sphere  he  might  not  have 
developed  into  the  superior  model  merchant  and  banker 
that  he  became.  Burning  the  bridge  behind  him  made 
it  necessary  for  him  to  move  forward,  and  he  made  a 
greater  man  in  consequence.  Out  of  the  ashes  of  his 
store  he  grew  into  the  famous  London  banker  and  world- 
renowned  philanthropist. 

His  uncle  welcomed  George  to  his  home  and  business. 
He  needed  a  young  man,  and  his  nephew  proved  to  be 
exactly  the  one  his  affairs  required.  He  became  pop- 
ular in  the  town.  His  business  and  social  qualities 
commended  him  to  the  attention  and  respect  of  every 
citizen.  He  was  highly  esteemed  by  the  young,  and 
he  was  equally  popular  with  the  old.  So  rapidly  did 
he  grow  in  favor  with  the  public,  that  a  merchant  of 
Georgetown,  by  the  name  of  Riggs,  invited  him  to  be- 


GEORGE  PEAEODT,  135 

come  his  partner  in  the  wholesale  drapery  business. 
His  uncle  advised  him  to  accept  the  proposition,  as  the 
business  was  one  with  which  he  was  acquainted,  and 
besides,  it  was  a  very  prosperous  one.  George  was  but 
nineteen  years  of  age  when  this  offer  was  made  and 
accepted ;  but  the  sagacious  merchant  saw  qualities  in 
the  youth  that  made  him  a  desirable  partner.  The  first 
five  thousand  dollars  that  young  Peabody  ever  made 
was  acquired  in  this  business  with  Riggs.  Branches 
of  this  house  were  established,  after  a  little,  in  Balti- 
more, Philadelphia,  and  New  York.  In  1830  Mr.  Riggs 
retired  from  the  firm,  leaving  George  at  the  head  of  a 
large,  growing,  and  profitable  business. 

In  1827  Peabody  visited  London  in  the  interest  of 
the  firm ;  and  he  became  enamoured  with  the  great  city, 
and  secretly  resolved  that  he  would  become  a  citizen  of 
it  at  a  future  day.  At  this  time  he  was  regarded  as  a 
great  financier  for  a  man  of  his  years.  He  knew  how 
to  make  money,  and  how  to  invest  and  keep  it ;  and  that 
was  unusual,  even  for  that  day.  It  was  said  that  he 
then  saw  an  opening  for  a  banker  in  London.  Whether 
so  or  not,  he  sold  out  his  business  in  this  country  in 
1837,  and  established  himself  in  London.  From  that 
day  he  was  never  hid  by  obscurity,  nor  indolent  for 
the  lack  of  business.  In  a  few  years  he  became  a 
rich  man,  and  his  wealth  increased  from  year  to  year 
marvellously. 

Respected  among  his  peers,  honored  by  the  poor  and 
unknown,  beloved  by  all,  he  pursued  the  even  tenor  of 
his  way,  industrious,  economical,  and  unassuming  as  the 
poorest,  busy  toiler  of  the  realm.  His  great  heart  took 
in  the  wants  and  woes  of  humanity,  and  his  long  purse 


136  TURNING  POINTS. 

supplemented  his  prayers  and  work  to  make  the  needy 
glad. 

He  once  said  to  a  friend,  "It  has  been  my  constant 
prayer  to  God  that  I  might  accumulate  a  large  amount 
of  money  to  give  in  charity  to  the  poor."  God  heard 
his  prayer;  and  he  acquired  the  immense  fortune  of 
nearly  TEX  MILLIOX  DOLLARS,  all  of  which,  after  liberal 
legacies  to  relatives  and  friends,  was  given  to  the  poor 
of  England  and  America,  and  a  class  of  literary  institu- 
tions, chiefly  in  his  native  land.  Two  hundred  and  fifty 
thousand  dollars  of  it  went  to  the  "  Peabody  Institute  " 
of  Danvers.  When  the  citizens  of  this  town  celebrated 
the  occasion  of  his  visit  to  them  with  music  and  ban- 
ners, bonfires  and  illuminations,  a  banquet  and  speeches, 
he  said  to  the  school-children  before  him,  in  a  speech  of 
eloquence  and  pathos,  — 

"  I  hope  that  many  a  great  and  good  man  may  arise 
from  the  ranks  of  Danvers  boys  assembled  here  to-day. 
Bear  in  mind,  however,  that  to  be  truly  great  it  is  not 
necessary  that  you  should  gain  wealth  and  importance. 
Every  boy  may  become  a  great  man  in  whatever  sphere 
Providence  may  call  him  to  move. 

"  Steadfast  and  undeviating  truth,  fearless  and  straight- 
forward integrity,  and  an  honor  ever  unsullied  by  an 
unworthy  word  or  action,  make  their  possessor  greater 
than  worldly  success  or  prosperity.  These  qualities 
constitute  greatness ;  without  them  you  will  never  enjoy 
the  good  opinions  of  others,  or  the  approbation  of  a 
good  conscience. 

"  May  the  advice  I  have  given  you  be  impressed  upon 
your  young  hearts.  It  is  given  with  great  sincerity  by 
one  who  has  had  much  experience  in  the  world  j  and, 


GEORGE  PEABODY.  137 

although  Providence  has  smiled  upon  all  his  labors,  he 
has  never  ceased  to  feel  and  lament  the  want  of  that 
early  education  which  is  now  so  freely  offered  to  each 
one  of  you.  This  is  the  first  time  we  have  met ;  it  may 
prove  the  last ;  but  while  I  live  I  shall  ever  feel  a 
warm  interest  in  your  welfare.  God  bless  you  all ! " 

Mr.  Peabody  died  in  Eaton  Square,  London,  Nov. 
4,  1869.  His  funeral  in  Westminster  Abbey  was  as 
elaborate  and  sorrowful  as  that  of  kings  and  queens  in 
that  celebrated  place  of  worship ;  and  then  his  remains 
were  placed  on  the  English  war-ship  Monarch,  and 
brought  to  this  country.  At  his  own  request  his  body 
was  laid  beside  that  of  his  mother  in  his  native  town 
of  Danvers,  where  universal  sorrow  bewailed  his  death. 

At  the  time  Mr.  Peabody  contemplated  returning  to 
his  native  land,  a  while  after  his  munificent  gift  of 
about  TWO  MILLION  DOLLARS  to  benefit  the  London  poor, 
Queen  Victoria  addressed  a  letter  to  him,  from  which 
the  following  extract  is  made,  — 

"  The  Queen  hears  that  Mr.  Peabody  intends  shortly 
to  return  to  America ;  and  she  would  be  sorry  that  he 
should  leave  England  without  being  assured  by  herself 
how  deeply  she  appreciates  the  noble  act,  of  more  than 
princely  munificence,  by  which  he  has  sought  to  relieve 
the  wants  of  her  poorer  subjects  residing  in  London. 
It  is  an  act,  as  the  Queen  believes,  wholly  without 
parallel ;  and  which  will  carry  its  best  reward  in  the 
consciousness  of  having  contributed  so  largely  to  the 
assistance  of  those  who  can  little  help  themselves. 

"  The  Queen  would  not,  however,  have  been  satisfied 
without  giving  Mr.  Peabody  some  public  mark  of  her 
sense  of  his  munificence ;  and  she  would  gladly  have 


138  TURNING  POINTS. 

conferred  upon  him  either  a  baronetcy  or  the  Grand 
Cross  of  the  Order  of  the  Bath,  but  that  she  under- 
stands Mr.  Peabody  to  feel  himself  debarred  from 
accepting  such  distinctions. 

"It  only  remains,  therefore,  for  the  Queen  to  give 
Mr.  Peabody  this  assurance  of  her  personal  feelings ; 
which  she  would  further  wish  to  mark  by  asking  him 
to  accept  a  miniature  portrait  of  herself,  which  she  will 
desire  to  have  painted  for  him,  and  which,  when  fin- 
ished, can  either  be  sent  to  him  in  America,  or  given  to 
him  on  the  return  which  she  rejoices  to  hear  he  medi- 
tates to  the  country  that  owes  him  so  much." 

The  costly  miniature  was  accepted ;  and,  in  his  reply 
to  the  Queen,  Mr.  Peabody  said,  "  I  shall  value  it  as  the 
most  gracious  heirloom  that  I  can  leave  in  the  land  of 
my  birth ;  where,  together  with  the  letter  which  your 
Majesty  has  addressed  to  me,  it  will  ever  be  regarded  as 
an  evidence  of  the  kindly  feeling  of  the  Queen  of  the 
United  Kingdom  toward  a  citizen  of  the  United  States." 

The  miniature  is  preserved  in  the  vault  of  the  Pea- 
body  Institute,  Danvers,  Mass.,  together  with  other 
precious  relics  of  the  famous  philanthropist. 

On  the  occasion  of  erecting  a  bronze  statue  to  his 
memory,  on  the  east  side  of  the  Royal  Exchange,  Lon- 
don, Mr.  Motley,  the  American  minister  to  the  Court  of 
St.  James,  said,  "  I  have  often  thought  of  a  famous  epi- 
taph inscribed  on  the  monument  of  an  old  Earl  of  Devon, 
one  who  was  commonly  called,  '  the  good  Earl  of  Devon.' 
No  doubt  the  inscription  is  familiar  to  many  who  now 
hear  me.  '  What  I  spent,  that  I  had ;  what  I  saved, 
that  I  lost ;  that  which  I  gave  away  remains  with  me.' 
And  what  a  magnificent  treasure,  according  to  these 


GEORGE  PEAEODY.  139 

noble  and  touching  words,  has  our  friend  and  the  poor 
man's  friend  preserved  for  himself,  till  time  and  he  shall 
be  no  more !  " 

Wonderful  career  of  a  poor  boy  working  his  own  way 
to  renown !  But  for  the  conflagration  that  terminated 
his  connection  with  NeAvburyport,  he  might  never  have 
become  the  successful  and  honored  London  banker. 


140  TURNING  POINTS. 


XVII. 

JAMES   GILLESPIE  ELAINE. 

THE  CHOICE  OF  JOURNALISM  THAT  LED  HIM  ON  TO 
FORTUNE. 

IN  our  Revolutionary  struggle  for  independence,  Eph- 
raim  Elaine  was  "  an  officer  of  the  Pennsylvania  line,  a 
trusted  friend  of  Washington,  and  during  the  last  four 
years  of  the  war  served  as  the  commissary-general  of 
the  northern  department  of  his  command.  Possessed  of 
ample  means,  he  drew  largely  from  his  own  private 
purse,  and  enlisted  the  contributions  of  various  friends 
for  the  maintenance  of  the  army  through  the  severe  and 
memorable  winter  at  Valley  Forge/''  This  Ephraim 
Blaine  was  the  grandfather  of  the  late  James  G.  Elaine, 
who  was  born  in  West  'Erownsville,  Washington  County, 
Penn.,  Jan.  31,  1830.  His  ancestry  were  Scotch-Irish 
Protestant  on  one  side  and  Catholic  on  the  other.  The 
children  were  reared  in  the  Protestant  faith ;  and  James 
early  identified  himself  with  the  Congregationalists,  in 
which  communion  he  died. 

James  was  a  precocious  boy,  a  great  reader,  and  a 
close  student  in  mathematics.  When  he  was  nine  years 
old  he  could  recite  the  whole  of  Plutarch's  "  Lives."  His 
remarkable  memory  appropriated  readily  the  contents  of 
whatever  book  he  read.  Having  ample  means,  his 


JAMES  GILLESPIE  ELAINE.  141 

father  provided  excellent  teachers  for  him  at  home,  until 
at  eleven  years  of  age  he  was  sent  to  Lancaster,  Ohio, 
where  he  lived  in  the  family  of  a  relative,  Thomas 
Ewing,  whose  son  fitted  for  college  in  that  town  with 
Blaine.  This  Thomas  Ewing,  junior,  was  a  member  of 
Congress  with  Mr.  Blaine  a  quarter  of  a  century  later: 
Thomas  Ewing,  senior,  was  in  the  president's  cabinet  — 
secretary  of  the  treasury  —  when  Blaine  took  up  his 
residence  in  the  family. 

These  boys  had  a  fine  teacher  at  Lancaster,  an  accom- 
plished Englishman  by  the  name  of  William  Lyons,  a 
brother  of  Lord  Lyons ;  and  their  progress  was  very 
creditable  to  both  of  them  Young  Blaine  was  fitted  for 
college  at  eighteen,  and  entered  Washington  College  in 
his  native  State  and  county.  He  was  a  great  lover  of 
books,  so  much  so  that  he  seldom  engaged  in  sports  with 
fellow-students.  One  of  his  college-mates  said  of  him, 
"  I  knew  Blaine  at  Washington  College,  he  being  in  the 
next  class  below  me.  Blaine's  parents  lived  at  Wash- 
ington during  their  son's  college  course,  and  on  that 
account  the  students  saw  less  of  him  than  if  he  had 
boarded  at  the  college  instead  of  at  home.  Young 
Blaine  was  a  sturdy,  heavy-set,  matter-of-fact  looking 
young  fellow,  not  at  all  prepossessing  in  appearance, 
and  exceedingly  awkward  at  times,  and  giving  no  hint 
of  the  elegant  gentleman  he  has  grown  to  be.  He  was 
never  seen  on  the  street  or  playground,  and  rarely 
mingled  in  the  customary  sports  of  the  boys.  I  remem- 
ber we  had  a  very  fine  football  ground,  but  I  never 
remember  to  have  seen  young  Blaine  on  it.  In  fact, 
I  cannot  say  for  certain  that  I  ever  saw  him  engaged 
in  any  kind  of  sport  during  the  entire  time  I  was  in 


142  TURNING  POINTS. 

college.  It  is  my  impression  that  lie  passed  all  his 
leisure  at  home,  or  in  one  of  the  college  halls,  or  with 
a  book.  He  was  a  great  reader,  almost  a  bookworm,  and 
would  become  absorbed  to  a  wonderful  degree  in  his 
books." 

He  was  graduated  with  honors  in  1847,  when  he  was 
seventeen  years  of  age.  His  oration  on  Commencement 
Day  was  a  grand  affair  for  a  youth,  his  subject  being, 
"  The  Duty  of  an  Educated  American."  Listeners  proph- 
esied that  a  youth  who  could  use  the  king's  English 
with  such  grace,  eloquence,  and  power,  would  be  distin- 
guished in  his  manhood.  He  excelled  in  literature  and 
mathematics  in  college,  and  his  compositions  were  of  a 
high  order.  His  extreme  modesty,  which  amounted  to 
a  decided  lack  of  confidence  in  his  own  abilities,  inter- 
fered with  his  standing  in  the  literary  society.  He 
shrank  from  debate. 

Soon  after  he  was  graduated  he  accepted  the  position 
of  professor  of  mathematics  in  a  military  school  at  Blue 
Lick  Springs,  Kentucky.  There  were  two  hundred  sons 
of  Southern  planters  in  this  school,  young  men  of  spirit, 
who  were  restive  under  restraint,  and  inclined  to  dare 
the  authority  of  their  young  professor  of  mathematics, 
who  was  only  eighteen  years  of  age.  One  day  the  stu- 
dents rose  in  rebellion  against  the  faculty,  and  attacked 
some  of  the  officers  with  knives  and  pistols.  It  was  a 
serious  melee;  and  young  Elaine  sprang  to  the  relief  of 
the  faculty,  and  engaged  in  the  contest  like  a  gladiator. 
With  his  stalwart  blows  several  of  the  students  were 
laid  unconscious  upon  the  floor,  and  finally  the  rebels 
were  subdued  and  the  faculty  were  victorious.  From 
that  time  the  students,  who  had  admitted  that  Blaine 


JAMES   GILLESPIE  BLAINE.  143 

was  a  very  accomplished  professor,  respected  him  as  a 
young  man  of  superior  courage  and  strength.  With 
them,  reared  under  the  blighting  curse  of  slavery,  fists 
were  superior  to  brains. 

At  the  close  of  his  third  year  at  Blue  Lick,  having 
married  Miss  Harriet  Stanwood  of  Maine,  who  was 
teacher  in  a  young  ladies'  seminary  in  the  neighboring 
town  of  Millersburg,  he  visited  her  friends  in  the  Pine 
Tree  State.  Then  he  accepted  the  position  of  instructor 
in  an .  institution  for  the  blind  in  Philadelphia,  where 
he  continued  two  years,  a  very  successful  and  popular 
teacher.  He  had  charge  of  the  higher  classes  in  litera- 
ture and  science ;  and  the  principal  of  the  school  wrote 
this  of  him,  "His  brilliant  mental  powers  were  exactly 
qualified  to  enlighten  and  instruct  the  interesting  minds 
before  him." 

He  was  now  twenty-four  years  of  age,  and  wielded  a 
trenchant  pen,  and  had  written  considerably  for  news- 
papers and  literary  publications.  He  enjoyed  this  kind 
of  literary  labor  more  than  he  did  any  other.  Yet  he 
had  not  decided  upon  his  life-work.  He  had  thought 
and  discussed  the  matter  of  editorial  work,  but  no  open- 
ing appeared  at  the  time.  He  loved  teaching,  and  his 
purpose  was  to  continue  that  profession  unless  Provi- 
dence opened  a  wide  door  to  some  other.  While  in  this 
frame  of  mind  an  opportunity  was  presented  —  the  op- 
portunity of  his  lifetime  as  it  proved  —  to  purchase  a 
half-interest  in  the  Kennebec  Journal  of  Augusta,  Me. 
He  embraced  this  opportunity  with  all  his  heart,  made 
the  purchase,  and  removed  at  once  to  Augusta,  which 
was  his  home  thereafter  as  long  as  he  lived.  This  choice 
was  the  turning-point  in  his  great  career,  as  the  sequel 
will  show. 


144  TURNING  POINTS. 

The  Journal  took  a  new  start  under  his  editorial  abil- 
ity. Readers  soon  discovered  that  a  man  of  intellectual 
power  and  great  wisdom,  young  as  he  was,  had  assumed 
the  editorial  charge  of  the  paper.  He  handled  political 
questions  with  the  skill  of  a  veteran,  and  rallied  the 
Republican  party  to  new  interest  and  endeavor.  In  two 
years  he  was  one  of  the  leaders  of  the  Republican  party 
in  Maine,  and  was  a  delegate  in  1856  to  the  first  national 
Republican  convention  which  nominated  Fremont  for  the 
presidency.  On  his  return  from  that  convention  he 
made  his  first  public  speech  in  Augusta,  by  invitation. 
The  modesty  that  deterred  him  from  debate  in  academy 
and  college  had  kept  him  silent  before  the  people  until 
now.  He  began  his  speech  under  considerable  embar- 
rassment, but  gained  confidence  as  he  proceeded  and 
warmed  with  his  subject.  At  the  close  of  his  splen- 
did effort  Republicans  were  unanimous  in  the  opinion 
that  they  had  not  only  the  most  brilliant  editor  in  the 
State,  but  also  the  most  accomplished  orator.  "  If  he 
thus  surprises  us  at  twenty -six,  what  will  he  not  do  at 
fifty-six  ?  "  said  one. 

The  next  year  after  taking  charge  of  the  Journal  he 
enlarged  his  sphere  of  influence  by  taking  the  editorship 
of  the  Portland  Advertiser.  He  was  a  tremendous 
worker,  and  his  stock  of  physical  force  seemed  equal  to 
any  emergency.  At  twenty-eight  years  of  age  he  was 
elected  to  the  Maine  Legislature,  and  served  four  years 
in  succession,  during  two  of  which  he  was  Speaker  of  the 
House.  While  rendering  this  legislative  service  to  the 
State,  the  late  Civil  War  plunged  the  nation  into  a  terri- 
ble conflict,  and  then  young  Elaine  mounted  to  the  sum- 
mit of  his  parliamentary  skill  and  forensic  power.  His 


JAMES   GILLESPIE  ELAINE.  145 

warmest  admirers  had  not  given  him  credit  for  so  great 
ability.  He  was  an  abler  man  than  they  had  supposed, 
so  they  elected  him  to  Congress  in  1862.  He  was  only 
thirty-two  years  of  age  ;  but  his  ability,  wisdom,  elo- 
quence, and  patriotism  were  needed  to  save  the  Union. 
For  thirty  years  thereafter  he  was  a  power  in  our  nation, 
and  his  fame  went  round  the  world.  His  first  speech  in 
Congress  was  to  show  that  the  national  government  could 
carry  on  the  war  triumphantly,  and  pay  the  heavy  debt 
that  must  be  incurred  thereby ;  and  its  clarion  notes  rang 
out  over  the  hills  and  valleys  of  the  North,  to  encourage 
the  hopeful  and  reassure  the  timid.  He  was  the  leading 
spirit  in  securing  the  Fourteenth  Amendment  to  the  Con- 
stitution, and  the  Reconstruction  Bill,  and  similar  im- 
portant measures.  Being  a  stanch  opponent  of  slavery 
from  his  boyhood,  he  became  a  power  in  Congress  in  all 
the  legislation  that  aimed  a  blow  at  slavery  as  well  as  at 
the  rebellion.  Indeed,  he  believed  that  there  could  be 
no  peace  until  slavery  was  blotted  out,  and  the  land  was 
free  in  truth  as  it  was  in  name  ;  and  he  dealt  his  blows 
accordingly. 

He  served  the  State  of  Maine  fourteen  years  in  the 
national  House  of  Eepresentatives,  six  of  which  he  was 
speaker,  "  commonly  regarded  as  one  of  the  most  bril- 
liant and  successful  administrations  of  the  speakership 
in  the  annals  of  the  House."  A  newspaper  correspon- 
dent described  him  thus  :  "  Blaine  is  metallic ;  you  can- 
not conceive  how  a  shot  could  pierce  him,  for  there  seems 
to  be  no  joint  in  his  harness.  He  is  a  man  who  knows 
what  the  weather  was  yesterday  morning  in  Dakota; 
what  the  Emperor's  policy  will  be  touching  Mexico; 
on  what  day  of  the  week  the  16th  of  December,  proximo, 


146  TURNING   POINTS. 

will  fall ;  who  is  chairman  of  the  school  committee  in 
Kennebunk ;  what  is  the  best  way  of  managing  the  na- 
tional debt ;  together  with  all  the  other  interests  of  to- 
day, which  anybody  else  would  stagger  under.  How  he 
does  it  nobody  knows.  He  is  always  in  his  place.  He 
must  absorb  details  by  assimilation  at  his  finger-ends. 
As  I  said,  he  is  clear  metal ;  his  features  are  cast  in  a 
mould ;  his  attitudes  are  those  of  a  bronze  figure ;  his 
voice  clinks,  and  he  has  ideas  as  fixed  as  brass." 

Mr.  Elaine  served  the  State  of  Maine  many  years  in 
the  United  States  Senate,  making  as  brilliant  a  record  as 
he  made  in  the  House.  He  was  a  candidate  for  the  presi- 
dency in  1876,  and  received  more  votes  on  the  first  ballot 
than  any  other  candidate.  On  nominating  him,  Robert 
G.  Ingersoll  said,  "  Like  an  armed  warrior,  like  a  plumed 
knight,  James  G.  Elaine,  marched  down  the  halls  of  the 
American  Congress,  and  threw  his  shining  lance  full  and 
fair  against  the  brazen  foreheads  of  the  detainers  of  his 
country  and  the  maligners  of  his  honor.  For  the  Re- 
publican party  to  desert  this  gallant  leader  now  is  as 
though  an  army  should  desert  their  general  upon  the 
field  of  battle."  Yet  on  the  final  ballot  Rutherford  B. 
Hayes  was  nominated.  He  was  candidate  for  the  same 
honors  again  in  1880,  when  James  A.  Garfield  was  nom- 
inated. On  taking  his  seat  as  president,  Mr.  Garfield 
appointed  him  secretary  of  state.  In  1884  Mr.  Elaine 
received  the  nomination  for  president  by  the  national 
Republican  convention,  but  was  defeated  in  the  election 
by  Grover  Cleveland. 

By  constant  and  almost  unparalleled  labors,  with 
severe  bereavements  in  the  family,  his  health  was  now 
impaired,  and  he  went  abroad.  He  returned,,  however, 


JAMES  GILLESPIE  ELAINE.  147 

in  1888,  and  took  his  seat  in  the  United  States  Senate, 
although  still  quite  broken  in  health.  He  was  again 
candidate  for  the  presidency  in  the  Republican  conven- 
tion of  that  year;  but  Benjamin  F.  Harrison  received 
the  nomination.  Mr.  Harrison  appointed  him  secretary 
of  state,  in  which  position  he  became  the  author  of  the 
"  system  of  trade  reciprocity  with  the  South  American 
and  Central  American  States,"  not  to  mention  other 
measures  of  equal  importance  to  the  country. 

Mr.  Elaine  died  in  Washington  in  1893,  sixty-three 
years  of  age.  Thus  terminated  one  of  the  most  re- 
markable lives  in  American  history,  —  brilliant,  crowned 
with  great  achievement,  humane,  philanthropic,  and 
thoroughly  in  earnest.  But  for  a  happy  choice,  that 
turned  him  from  pedagoguing  to  journalism,  he  might 
have  lived  in  comparative  obscurity,  and  the  republic 
lost  one  mighty  force  that  contributed  to  the  preserva- 
tion and  perpetuity  of  our  free  institutions. 


148  TURNING  POINTS. 


XVIII. 

SIR   JOHN   FRANKLIN. 

THE    FIKST    VIEW    OF    THE    SEA    THAT    MADE    HIM    A 
NAVIGATOR. 

JOHN  FRANKLIN  was  born  at  Spilsby,  Lincolnshire, 
England,  April  16,  1786.  His  parents  were  highly  con- 
nected ;  but  his  father's  patrimonial  estate  was  so  bur- 
dened with  mortgages  that  he  was  obliged  to  sell  it,  in 
order  to  maintain  and  educate  his  family  of  twelve 
children.  He  was  a  friend  of  education,  and  desired 
that  his  children  should  be  fitted,  by  reasonable  culture, 
for  the  duties  of  manhood  and  womanhood. 

John  was  his  youngest  son,  full  of  spirit,  bright,  en- 
terprising, and  manly.  His  father  determined  that  he 
should  enter  the  ministry,  and  started  out  to  educate 
him  accordingly.  We  have  no  reason  to  believe  that  the 
son  objected  to  the  arrangement,  although  it  is  claimed 
that  he  sometimes  spoke  of  a  seafaring  life  rather  en- 
thusiastically. He  had  never  seen  the  ocean;  but  he 
was  a  great  reader,  and  he  might  have  read  of  a  sea- 
faring life. 

He  was  sent  to  school  at  Louth,  where  he  became  a 
favorite  among  his  schoolmates.  Quick  to  learn,  of 
rather  studious  habits,  daring  and  adventurous,  he  w,as 
easily  a  leader  of  his  comrades.  Louth  was  twelve 


SIR  JOHN  FRANKLIN.  149 

miles  from  the  ocean,  and  John  had  a  strong  desire  to 
behold  it.  On  a  holiday,  accompanied  by  a  schoolmate, 
he  took  a  walk  to  the  sea ;  and  he  enjoyed  it  beyond 
measure.  The  broad  expanse  of  water  rilled  him  with 
surprise  and  wonder.  He  sat  down  upon  the  beach,  and 
for  two  hours  mused  and  talked  over  the  sublime  spec- 
tacle. Evidently  his  imagination  had  not  depicted  the 
scene  to  ravish  his  heart  as  the  reality  did.  He  was 
overwhelmed  by  its  grandeur.  When  the  time  to  return 
came,  he  was  loath  to  quit  the  shore. 

On  his  way  back  he  resolved  to  become  a  sailor.  He 
discussed  the  matter  with  his  companion,  pro  and  con, 
to  whom  he  intrusted  his  decision  to  follow  the  sea, 
instead  of  going  into  the  ministry.  The  fascination  of 
the  ocean  had  completely  won  his  heart.  Nothing  could 
satisfy  him  now  but  a  seafaring  life;  all  else  was  of 
no  account,  not  even  his  school. 

That  his  visit  to  the  sea-coast  decided  his  future  des- 
tiny there  can  be  no  question.  From  that  time  he 
aspired  only  to  be  a  sailor.  It  was  his  talk  by  day, 
and  his  dream  by  night.  No  argument  or  appeal  could 
move  him  from  his  purpose.  Teachers  could  not  dis- 
suade him.  Neither  a  father's  entreaty  nor  a  mother's 
love  could  turn  him  from  his  purpose.  He  had  fallen 
in  love  with  the  sea,  and  to  sea  he  must  go. 

The  sequel  will  confirm  the  foregoing.  His  desire  to 
become  a  sailor  was  speedily  reported  to  his  parents. 
He  besought,  importuned,  begged,  and  cried  for  his 
father's  consent.  He  could  never  be  satisfied  or  happy 
anywhere  but  on  the  ocean.  He  would  have  no  heart 
for  any  other  pursuit.  He  must  be  a  sailor  or  nothing. 

It  was  not  until  his  father  saw  that  his  son  would  be 


150  TURNING  POINTS. 

a  failure  unless  he  yielded  to  his  importunity  that  he 
consented  to  his  becoming  a  sailor.  At  the  same  time, 
thinking  and  hoping  that  the  hardships  of  a  short  voy- 
age in  a  small  merchant  vessel  would  abate  his  passion 
for  the  sea,  he  secured  for  him  a  position  on  a  small 
craft  bound  for  Lisbon.  He  was  but  thirteen  years  of 
age  when  this  voyage  was  undertaken ;  and  he  was  a 
happy  sailor-boy.  Storm  or  sunshine,  rough  seas  or 
a  calm,  it  was  all  the  same  to  him.  Hardships,  perils, 
and  exposures  served  only  to  increase  his  love  for  the 
sea.  They  were  the  spice  of  a  sailor's  life.  When  he 
returned,  he  was  more  determined  than  ever  to  live  on 
the  ocean. 

His  parents  found  themselves  in  a  dilemma.  They 
meant  their  son  should  enter  the  ministry ;  but  now  he 
was  stoutly  opposed  to  their  plan.  His  plea  was  to 
abandon  school  and  become  a  sailor  at  once.  His  ear- 
nestness could  not  be  denied.  He  meant  business. 
There  was  no  alternative.  His  father  took  in  the  situa- 
tion, and  very  reluctantly  yielded  to  his  son's  importu- 
nity. It  was  settled  that  his  life-pursuit  should  be 
upon  the  sea,  and  that  it  should  begin  at  once. 

There  was  a  choice  of  places,  however.  His  father 
favored  the  navy ;  and  John  was  accordingly  entered  as 
midshipman  upon  the  Polyphemus,  at  the  age  of  four- 
teen. He  was  perfectly  satisfied  now.  Come  battle  or 
storm,  or  wreck,  he  was  content  with  his  lot.  He  was 
born,  evidently,  for  such  a  service,  being  endowed  with 
qualities  that  are  eminently  necessary  for  such  a  career. 

The  incidents  that  follow  will  show  that  the  turning- 
point  of  his  life  was  when  he  beheld  the  ocean  for  the 
first  time,  and  there  determined  to  become  a  sailor.  They 


SIR  JOI1N  FRANKLIN.  151 

confirm  this  idea  by  the  proof  they  furnish  of  tact  for 
the  service,  devotion  to  his  country,  bravery,  endurance, 
and  ambition  to  excel. 

It  was  only  a  few  months  after  his  enlistment  that 
John  found  himself  in  a  battle.  It  was  the  battle  of 
Copenhagen,  April  2,  1801.  It  was  a  short,  sharp,  deci- 
sive engagement,  such  as  would  try  the  spirit  of  a  boy. 
A  comrade  who  stood  beside  him  was  shot  dead.  But 
John  was  cool,  brave,  and  patriotic.  He  was  not  sorry 
that  he  enlisted ;  he  was  proud  of  his  position. 

A  few  months  later  he  was  transferred  to  the  Investi- 
gator, commanded  by  his  cousin,  Captain  Flanders,  com- 
missioned by  the  English  government  to  explore  the 
coasts  of  Australia.  For  two  years  he  was  engaged  in 
this  service,  and  it  was  the  best  school  possible  for  his 
future  career.  At  the  expiration  of  two  years  the  In- 
vestigator proved  to  be  unseaworthy ;  and  all  on  board 
returned  on  the  storeship  Porpoise,  which  was  wrecked, 
Aug.  18,  1803,  on  a  reef  about  two  hundred  miles  from 
the  coast  of  Australia.  Young  Franklin,  with  his  com- 
panions, remained  for  fifty  days  on  a  sand-bank  six  hun- 
dred feet  in  length,  until  relief  arrived  from  Fort 
Jackson.  Franklin  was  carried  to  Canton,  where  he 
obtained  passage  to  England  in  a  vessel  commanded  by 
Sir  Nathaniel  Dance.  On  their  passage  home  they  were 
attacked  by  a  French  squadron,  in  the  Strait  of  Malacca, 
Feb.  15,  1804.  It  was  quite  a  battle ;  and  the  French 
squadron  was  beaten  off,  and  Franklin  reached  his  native 
land  safe  and  sound. 

It  must  be  confessed  that  his  experience  was  a  check- 
ered one  thus  far.  About  all  the  hardships  that  a  sailor 
can  experience  were  meted  out  to  him  before  he  was 


152  TURNING  POINTS. 

eighteen  years  old.  And  still  he  was  delighted  with  his 
occupation.  He  arrived  in  England  with  only  cherished 
memories  of  his  seafaring  life.  His  parents  gave  him  a 
warm  welcome,  and  John  greatly  enjoyed  his  short  stay 
at  home. 

Next,  he  was  signal  midshipman  on  the  Bellerophon, 
and  in  1805  took  part  in  the  famous  battle  of  Trafalgar. 
He  distinguished  himself  in  that  contest  by  his  coolness 
and  courage  under  the  hottest  fire.  Of  forty  persons 
who  stood  around  him  on  the  poop,  only  seven  escaped 
unhurt ;  and  he  was  one  of  the  seven.  It  was  here  that 
he  first  met  the  great  commander  Nelson,  who  fell  in 
this  battle  of  Trafalgar  mortally  wounded.  Franklin 
was  only  nineteen  years  of  age,  but  already  the  dawn  of 
his  future  greatness  appeared. 

Subsequently  Franklin  served  on  the  Bedford  at  vari- 
ous stations,  the  last  of  which  was  the  coast  of  the 
United  States  during  the  War  of  1812-1815.  He  en- 
gaged in  a  fight  with  American  gunboats  at  New  Or- 
leans, one  of  which  he  boarded  and  captured.  He  was 
wounded  in  this  action,  and  was  promoted  for  his  gal- 
lantry. 

After  a  few  more  years  of  brilliant  achievement,  in 
which  his  fame  for  military  prowess  and  bravery  spread 
over  his  land,  the  eyes  of  his  country  were  turned  to 
him  as  the  one  navigator  who  was  brave  enough  to  at- 
tempt the  discovery  of  a  north-west  passage.  He  had 
been  governor  of  Van  Diemen's  Land,  during  which  time 
he  did  much  for  science  and  learning,  all  of  which  con- 
tributed largely  to  his  qualifications  as  an  Arctic  ex- 
plorer. His  government  appointed  him  commander  of 
an  expedition  to  sail  through  the  Arctic  Ocean,  along  the 


SIR  JOHN  FRANKLIN.  153 

north  coast  of  America.  No  vessel  had  ever  accom- 
plished this  feat  on  account  of  the  ice.  The  expedition 
was  to  go  through  Lancaster  Sound  and  Barrow  Strait 
to  Cape  Walker,  and  then  through  Bering  Strait. 

Two  vessels  were  fitted  out,  the  Terror  and  Erebus ; 
and  Sir  John,  with  his  brave  men,  started  upon  their 
perilous  voyage.  Franklin  had  sailed  on  the  same  er- 
rand before,  so  that  he  understood  well  what  kind  of  an 
experience  he  might  have.  But  this  was  his  last  voyage, 
as  we  shall  see  ;  he  never  returned  to  tell  the  story  of 
his  hardships. 

It  was  a  safe  voyage  as  far  as  Baffin's  Bay,  with  every 
prospect  of  continued  success.  But  evidently  their  mis- 
fortunes  began  to  multiply  about  that  time.  Franklin's 
vessels  were  last  seen  moored  to  an  iceberg,  not  far  from 
Lancaster  Sound,  and  all  on  board  were  well.  After 
that  no  tidings  were  received  from  the  fleet ;  and  public 
anxiety  became  so  great  in  1848  that  arrangements  were 
made  to  send  out  several  expeditions  in  search  of  Frank- 
lin and  his  companions  as  soon  as  practicable.  One 
after  another  they  sailed  upon  this  noble  errand,  but 
without  satisfactory  results.  Lady  Franklin  nearly  ex- 
hausted her  large  fortune  in  sending  out  searching- 
parties  for  her  lamented  husband.  Expeditions  from 
different  countries,  on  the  same  holy  errand,  sailed  the 
Arctic  waters.  Dr.  Kane  of  Philadelphia  made  himself 
famous  by  his  heroic  search  for  Franklin.  His  book, 
containing  a  deeply  interesting  account  of  his  life  in 
the  Arctic  regions,  was  one  of  the  best-selling  books 
ever  published  in  our  country. 

In  1854  it  was  supposed  that  a  clew  to  the  fate  of 
the  Franklin  explorers  was  discovered.  Dr.  Rae  found 


154  TURNING  POINTS. 

Esquimaux  on  King  William's  Island  who  saw  a  com- 
pany of  about  forty  white  men  in  1850,  and,  a  few 
months  later,  discovered  their  remains  not  far  to  the 
north-west  of  Back's  Great  Fish  River.  Various  articles 
were  picked  up  by  the  Esquimaux,  which  proved,  be- 
yond a  doubt,  that  these  men  belonged  to  the  crews  of 
the  Terror  and  Erebus.  Tims  the  boy  whose  first  view 
of  the  ocean  made  him  a  great  navigator  found  his 
grave  within  the  Arctic  Circle. 


GEOEGE  NIXON  BEIGGS.  155 


XIX. 

GEORGE   NIXON  BRIGGS. 

THE    FRATERNAL    ACT    THAT    CONVERTED    THE    HATTER 
INTO    A    STATESMAN. 

MANY  years  ago  there  lived  a  " village  blacksmith" 
among  the  hills  of  Berkshire,  in  the  town  of  South 
Adams,  a  hale  and  hearty  son  of  Vulcan,  whose  word  and 
work  were  as  good  as  gold  among  his  neighbors.  He 
was  born  in  Cranston,  R.I.,  April  27,  1756;  and  his  ex- 
cellent wife,  whose  maiden  name  was  Mary  Brown,  was 
born  in  Cumberland,  li.L,  Jan.  11,  17G2.  The  latter 
was  of  Huguenot  descent,  —  a  woman  of  strong,  vigor- 
ous intellect,  as  pious  as  she  was  intelligent.  To  this 
exemplary  and  respected  couple  was  born  their  eleventh 
child,  a  son,  April  12,  1796,  to  whom  they  gave  the 
name  of  George  Nixon. 

That  George  enjoyed  all  the  advantages  of  a  Chris- 
tian home  in  his  boyhood,  to  which  he  was  bound  by  the 
truest  filial  love,  is  manifest  from  the  following  tribute 
which  he  paid  to  his  father  in  reply  to  a  request  of  the 
Hon.  Charles  Hudson  for  reminiscences :  — 

"  He  was  all  his  life  a  hard-working,  poor,  and  honest 
man  —  a  real  character  of  Seventy-six.  His  poverty 
never  made  him  bow  the  neck  to  any  man.  He  died, 
leaving  to  his  children  a  legacy  worth  more,  and  dearer 


156  TURNING  POINTS. 

far  to  me,  than  the  wealth  of  Croesus  —  a  name  as  pure 
and  spotless  as  the  snowy  locks  he  carried  to  the  tomb. 
His  epitaph  is,  — 

"  'An  honest  man's  the  noblest  work  of  God.'  " 

When  George  was  seven  years  old,  his  father  removed 
to  Manchester,  Vt.,  beneath  the  shadows  of  the  Green 
Mountains,  where  he  expected  to  add  to  his  earthly 
goods  as  materially  as  his  removal  thither  added  to  the 
population  of  the  State.  In  this,  however,  he  was  dis- 
appointed ;  and  after  a  sojourn  of  t\\;o  years  in  that 
sturdy  commonwealth,  where  the  family  became  en- 
deared to  all  who  made  their  acquaintance,  he  removed 
to  White  Creek,  Washington  County,  N.Y.  Here  George 
began  to  exhibit  the  talents,  force  of  character  and  prin- 
ciple, which  characterized  his  long  and  useful  life.  His 
mother  conferred  upon  him  the  title  of  "  My  little 
lawyer." 

At  fourteen  years  of  age  he  became  a  Christian,  and 
united  with  the  Baptist  Church  of  White  Creek.  At 
once  the  sincerity  and  enthusiasm  of  the  boy  appeared 
in  his  addresses  and  prayers  at  evening  meetings.  He 
surprised  his  elders  by  the  fervor  of  his  eloquence  and 
the  earnestness  of  his  appeals  for  a  better  life.  In  De- 
cember, 1861,  the  Hon.  Hiland  Hall  of  Vermont,  who 
was  a  companion  of  George  Nixon  at  White  Creek  in 
early  life,  and  afterwards  an  associate  member  of  Con- 
gress, said  of  him,  referring  to  his  activity  in  religious 
meetings,  "  My  first  remembrance  of  him  was  during  the 
excitement  of  a  religious  revival,  when  his  eloquent, 
and  what  were  deemed  almost  miraculous,  addresses  in 
religious  meetings  drew  together  great  crowds  of  people, 


GEORGE  NIXON  BRIGGS.  157 

and  elicited  very  general  and  extensive  appreciation  and 
admiration." 

It  was  not  strange  that  a  boy  of  such  parts  should  be 
regarded  as  one  of  "  remarkable  promise  "  by  the  adult 
citizens  of  the  place,  and  a  kind  of  intellectual  phenom- 
enon by  his  companions.  Yet  the  pecuniary  circum- 
stances of  the  father  made  it  necessary  for  George  to 
learn  a  trade.  So,  after  careful  and  prayerful  considera- 
tion, it  was  decided  that  the  son  should  become  a  hatter. 
Accordingly,  George  left  his  father's  house,  and  took  up 
his  abode  with  one  John  Allen,  who  manufactured  hats 
in  a  neighboring  town.  He  remained  with  the  hatter 
three  years,  in  which  time  he  acquired  a  thorough 
knowledge  of  the  business ;  but  left  it,  at  the  expira- 
tion of  that  period,  never  more  to  engage  in  it.  That 
this  issue  was  not  the  fruit  of  a  false  pride,  causing 
him  to  feel  above  his  business,  is  proven  by  the  fact 
that  he  ever  found  pleasure  in  the  thought  that  three 
years  of  his  life  were  spent  in  mastering  a  trade. 
After  he  became  the  esteemed  governor  of  Massachu- 
setts, and  spent  most  of  his  time  in  Boston,  a  lady  said 
to  him  in  a  brilliant  company  one  evening,  "  Governor, 
may  I  ask  at  what  college  you  graduated  ?  "  —  "  At  a 
hatter's  shop,"  he  replied  in  a  polite  and  pleasant  way. 

After  leaving  the  hat  business,  he  spent  one  year  at 
home,  attending  "  a  respectable  grammar  school,"  and 
rendering  his  father  necessary  assistance.  During  that 
year  his  strong  desire  to  enter  the  legal  profession  was 
frequently  expressed,  but  the  lack  of  money  to  pay  the 
bills  rather  repressed  his  hopefulness.  His  parents  and 
other  relatives  were  in  full  sympathy  with  his  aspira- 
tions, and  would  have  gladly  seconded  his  desire  could 


158  TURNING  POINTS. 

they  have  paid  the  bills.  At  length,  however,  an  older 
brother,  who  had  a  family  on  his  hands,  came  forward 
and  proffered  assistance.  By  close  economy  he  thought 
he  could  provide  him  with  a  small  amount  annually,  and 
nothing  would  afford  him  more  pleasure  than  to  do  this 
thing.  The  matter  was  discussed  in  the  family,  and 
finally  the  brother's  offer  settled  the  question ;  and 
George  decided  to  proceed  at  once  to  the  study  of  law. 
The  following  account  of  his  leaving  home  for  Western 
Massachusetts  is  from  his  own  pen,  and  very  inter- 
esting :  — 

"In  August,  1813,  with  five  dollars  I  had  earned  at 
haying,  I  left  home  to  go  to  studying  law.  I  had  a 
brother  living  on  the  Hudson,  whom  I  visited  in  Septem- 
ber, and  then,  with  my  trunk  on  my  back,  came  into 
Berkshire  County  penniless  and  a  stranger  to  all,  except 
a  few  relatives  and  friends,  most  of  them  as  poor  as  I 
was,  and  that  was  poor  enough.  My  brother  aided  me 
some  until  1816,  when  he  died." 

He  prosecuted  his  studies  with  Esquire  Kasson  of 
Adams ;  and  his  standing  as  a  student  and  a  citizen  of 
the  town  may  be  learned  from  the  following  letter 
of  Jesse  Whipple  to  his  brother  :  — 

"  George  is  uncommonly  steady,  and  attends  to  his 
studies  very  closely.  He  has  gained  the  esteem  of  both 
old  and  young  in  the  village.  Mr.  Kasson  informs  me 
that  he  progresses  rapidly  in  his  studies,  and  thinks  he 
bids  fair  to  make  an  eminent  lawyer." 

His  connection  with  the  law-office  of  Esquire  Kasson 
was  brief,  not  much  over  a  year,  when  he  removed  to 
the  office  of  Esquire  Washburn,  in  Lanesborough,  of  the 
same  county.  The  prospect  of  increasing  his  facilities 


GEORGE  NIXON  BRIGGS.  159 

for  personal  improvement  induced  him  to  make  the 
change. 

Esquire  Washburn's  office  was  "  the  rendezvous  of  the 
village,  where  its  discussions  and  news,  gossip  and  ex- 
citements, were  all  carried  on."  But  for  his  power  of 
abstraction  and  concentration  of  thought,  this  circum- 
stance would  have  proved  very  unfavorable.  The  con- 
versation and  hubbub  of  such  a  place  were  enough  to 
distract  ordinary  minds ;  but  through  his  intense  appli- 
cation George  was  oblivious  to  the  confusion  and  excite- 
ment. Years  afterwards  he  said  of  that  experience,  "  I 
never  engaged  in  the  conversation,  nor  even  heard  it, 
unless  personally  addressed.  I  read  hundreds  of  pages 
entirely  unconscious  of  the  brisk  conversation  carried  on 
in  my  hearing." 

Finding  that  law-books  abounded  in  Latin  words  and 
phrases,  he  turned  his  attention  to  the  acquisition  of  that 
ancient  language,  which  he  mastered  in  an  incredibly 
brief  space  of  time.  It  was  an  illustration  of  the  perse- 
verance and  singleness  of  purpose  with  which  he  sur- 
mounted difficulties. 

Here,  again,  a  field  opened  for  the  display  of  his  talents 
and  fervid  eloquence.  A  revival  of  religion  occurred  in 
the  town,  in  which  meetings  were  largely  multiplied,  and 
ample  scope  offered  to  such  Christian  workers  as  George. 
His  earnest  exhortations  often  drew  tears  from  the  atten- 
tive audience,  and  won  the  thoughtless  to  Christ.  Among 
the  fruits  of  that  religious  interest  was  the  gay  young 
Harriet  Hall,  whom  George  afterwards  married. 

In  1816  his  brother  suddenly  died,  thus  putting  a 
period  to  further  assistance  from  that  source.  To  add 
still  more  to  his  burden  of  sorrow,  the  settlement  of 


160  TURNING   POINTS. 

his  brother's  estate  disclosed  the  unexpected  fact  that 
his  family  were  left  destitute.  The  widow  and  children 
must  now  be  dependent,  in  a  measure  at  least,  upon  the 
bounty  of  others.  George  regarded  the  situation  philo- 
sophically, resolved  to  continue  his  studies  in  spite  of 
this  additional  embarrassment,  and  also  to  become,  in 
turn,  the  benefactor  of  his  brother's  Avidow  and  her 
fatherless  children.  He  bent  his  energies  anew  to  the 
mighty  task  before  him.  He  copied  legal  documents  in 
the  office  at  night,  and  during  such  moments  by  day  as 
he  could  snatch  from  other  duties ;  and  he  taught  school 
also  in  the  centre  district,  to  add  to  his  small  income. 

From  that  moment  his  brother's  children  found  in 
their  young  uncle  a  valuable  adviser  and  helpful  friend. 
The  widow  died  a  few  years  thereafter,  when  George  had 
established  a  home  of  his  own ;  and  her  children  were 
kindly  invited  by  the  latter  to  take  up  their  abode  with 
him.  Thus  it  happened  that  the  kindness  of  the  brother 
raised  up  a  benefactor  for  his  widow  and  children. 
However,  such  a  result  could  not  have  been  but  for  the 
indomitable  courage  and  perseverance  of  George,  who 
would  not  have  chosen  the  legal  profession  but  for  his 
brother's  generosity.  It  requires  the  highest  qualities 
to  make  a  benefactor  out  of  a  beneficiary. 

In  1818  he  married  Harriet  Hall  of  Lanesborough, 
was  admitted  to  the  bar,  and  began  the  practice  of  law 
in  his  native  town,  South  Adams,  under  the  brow  of 
Greylock,  keeping  house  in  a  small  dwelling  having  two 
rooms  below  and  one  above,  without  a  cellar  or  wood- 
house.  That  he  carried  his  Christian  principles  into 
his  legal  practice  is  a  matter  of  record.  It  was  a  rule 
with  him  to  advise  aggrieved  parties  to  adjust  their 


GEORGE  NIXON  BEIGGS.  161 

difficulties  by  private  settlement  if  possible,  and  "  keep 
out  of  the  courts."  It  was  frequently  said  of  him,  "  He 
does  not  try  half  the  cases  in  court  that  he  might." 
His  father-in-law  paid  him  a  visit  in  his  early  practice, 
and  busied  himself  by  going  to  and  from  the  office, 
spending  much  time  in  the  latter  place.  One  day,  going 
from  the  office  to  the  house,  he  exclaimed,  "  Harriet,  I 
am  sure  that  George  will  never  make  a  living  by  his 
profession.  Why,  he  seeks  to  persuade  every  one  to 
keep  out  of  court ! "  He  appears  to  have  remembered 
the  advice  of  his  elder  brother,  who  wrote  to  him  just 
after  he  began  the  study  of  law,  "  And  now  I  charge 
you  never  to  undertake  what  you  believe  to  be  an 
unjust  cause,  for  money;  but  at  all  times  be  ready  to 
assist,  with  all  the  powers  the  God  of  nature  has  given 
you,  the  poor  man  in  a  just  cause,  for  the  love  of  jus- 
tice, and  to  acquire  for  yourself  immortality  and  fame." 
George  replied  to  the  counsel,  "  Perfection  is  what  I 
have  no  idea  of  attaining  while  shackled  with  human 
nature  ;  but  consistency  is  that  after  which  I  am  re- 
solved to  reach.  Candor  shall  be  my  bosom  companion ; 
justice  shall  be  my  guide ;  and  nobly  to  Jill  the  sphere 
in  which  I  move  shall  be  the  great  end  and  aim  of  my 
labor." 

Twelve  years  of  law  practice  lifted  him  into  such  dis- 
tinction, that  he  was  chosen  to  represent  the  Eleventh 
Congressional  District  of  Massachusetts  in  Congress, 
and  took  his  seat  in  December,  1831,  when  he  was 
thirty-four  years  of  age.  His  extreme  modesty  embar- 
rassed him  in  Congress,  so  that  his  native  eloquence 
and  forensic  power  did  not  shine  as  those  who  were 
familiar  with  his  early  efforts  anticipated.  In  the 


162  TURNING  POINTS. 

presence  of  the  great  orators  of  the  land,  like  Clay, 
Webster,  Adams,  Pinckney,  and  others,  he  felt  very 
humble.  Still,  he  won  an  enviable  position,  both  as 
speaker  and  legislator.  His  ability,  sound  judgment, 
and  loyalty  to  right,  challenged  the  respect  and  confi- 
dence of  members,  North  and  South.  Such  was  his 
urbanity  and  fairness,  that  Southerners  were  on  the 
best  of  terms  with  him,-  although  he  plainly  and  boldly 
denounced  slavery,  intemperance,  duelling,  and  section- 
alism, together  with  leading  Democratic  measures,  and 
ever  asserted  his  religious  convictions  as  paramount  to 
the  claims  of  a  political  party. 

On  the  temperance  question  he  was  emphatic.  He 
saw  the  need  of  the  temperance  reform  in  Congress, 
and  was  instrumental  in  organizing  "  The  Congressional 
Temperance  Society."  He  was  a  teetotaler  from  the 
origin  of  the  total  abstinence  movement,  and  never 
ceased  to  proclaim  and  defend  his  position  at  Washing- 
ton. At  a  public  dinner  a  member  of  Congress  whom  he 
had  enlisted  in  the  temperance  cause  put  the  wine-cup 
to  his  lips.  Afterwards  Mr.  Briggs  called  his  attention 
to  it.  "  I  only  made  believe,"  responded  the  member. 
"  /  never  make  believe,"  was  Mr.  Briggs's  pointed  re- 
joinder. He  dined  one  day  with  the  president,  and  the 
latter  invited  him  to  drink  wine.  Mr.  Briggs  politely 
declined.  After  dinner  the  president  went  to  him  and 
said,  "  Are  you,  then,  a  teetotaler  ? "  Mr.  Briggs  re- 
plied, "I  should  think  I  was."  During  the  twelve 
years  he  was  in  Congress  he  kept  the  temperance  ban- 
ner flying.  So  conspicuous  was  he  in  the  temperance 
reform  at  Washington,  that  the  distinguished  Thomas 
F.  Marshall,  member  of  Congress  from  Kentucky,  rushed 


GEORGE  tflXOtf  BRIGGS.  163 

across  the  hall  one  day,  under  the  power  of  the  drink 
demon,  and  singling  out  Mr.  Briggs  from  the  whole 
number,  exclaimed,  "  Briggs,  you  must  write  me  a 
pledge,  that  I  may  sign  and  live ! "  Then  and  there 
Mr.  Briggs  wrote  :  — 

"  I  pledge  myself  never  to  use  intoxicating  liquors  as 
a  drink,  and  request  that  my  name  be  entered  as  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Washington  Temperance  Society." 

To  this  pledge  Mr.  Marshall  appended  his  name  with 
trembling  hand  and  great  nervous  agitation,  which  sober 
members  regarded  as  one  of  the  most  novel  and  exciting 
scenes  that  ever  took  place  on  the  floor  of  Representa- 
tives' Hall. 

Mr.  Briggs  was  governor  of  Massachusetts  from  1843 
to  1851,  the  longest  period  any  governor  has  served  the 
Commonwealth  in  its  whole  history,  except  Caleb  Strong. 
A  more  beloved  and  honored  governor  never  served  any 
State  in  the  Union.  Subsequently  he  served  the  State 
in  other  offices ;  as  judge  of  the  Court  of  Common  Pleas, 
member  of  the  Constitutional  Convention,  and  other  pub- 
lic trusts.  At  the  time  of  his  decease  he  was  president 
of  the  American  Tract  Society,  Boston ;  the  Baptist  For- 
eign Missionary  Union  ;  the  National  Temperance  Union ; 
the  State  Sabbath  School  Union ;  and  the  Berkshire 
Insurance  Company. 

He  died  Sept.  12,  1861.  The  circumstances  of  his 
death  were  singular  and  sorrowful.  The  loyal  army  of 
the  North  was  marshalling  to  conquer  the  "  slaveholders' 
rebellion."  His  second  son  was  already  at  the  seat  of 
war,  in  command  of  a  Massachusetts  regiment,  and  Gov- 
ernor Briggs  was  exercised  by  those  anxieties  and  fore- 
bodings that  only  a  father  knows.  He  stepped  into  a 


164  TURNING  POINTS. 

closet  for  his  thin  overcoat,  where  he  threw  down  a 
loaded  musket;  and,  in  attempting  to  replace  it,  the 
weapon  was  discharged,  sending  the  contents  into  his 
face.  His  eldest  son  was  in  the  house,  and  rushed  to 
his  assistance.  "  I  shall  soon  die ! "  exclaimed  the 
wounded  man ;  "  but  it  is  all  right.  Now,  my  dear  son, 
pray  with  me."  As  the  son  knelt,  "  the  father  took  both 
of  his  trembling  hands  in  his  own ;  and  during  all  the 
heartbroken  supplication  his  face  Avore  an  expression 
no  longer  of  agony,  or  even  of  unrest,  but  rather  of  per- 
fect peace  and  of  the  most  serene  devotion."  At  the 
close  of  the  prayer  he  looked  up  and  said,  "  It  is  strange 
that  in  my  own  peaceful  home  I  should  meet  the  fate  of 
the  battlefield.  But  it  is  all  right."  He  lived  eight 
days,  and  passed  away  like  a  conqueror.  "  Be  still  and 
know  that  I  am  God,"  were  his  comforting  words  to  his 
wife ;  and  his  pastor  appropriated  them  for  the  text  of 

his  funeral  sermon. 

j 


SIR  ISAAC  NEWTON.  165 


XX. 

SIR   ISAAC   NEWTON. 

THE    KICK    FROM    A'    PLAYMATE    THAT    MOVED    HTM 
TO    WIN. 

NEWTON'S  father  died  several  months  before  the  son 
was  born,  in  December,  1642,  in  "  the  old  manor-house 
of  Woolsthorpe,"  on  the  banks  of  the  river  Witham, 
England.  He  was  such  a  tiny,  feeble  baby  that  his 
mother  despaired  of  his  life  for  weeks,  and  even  months  ; 
but  finally,  by  the  most  tender  and  watchful  care,  he 
developed  into  a  healthy,  vigorous  child.  Under  her 
instruction  his  earliest  education  was  conducted ;  and 
he  became  an  affectionate,  obedient,  and  promising 
boy. 

When  he  was  six  or  seven  years  of  age  his  mother 
married  a  neighboring  rector,  leaving  her  son,  on  going 
to  her  new  home,  to  the  care  of  his  grandmother  until 
he  should  be  sent  to  school  at  Skillington.  He  seems 
to  have  taken  his  experience  philosophically,  whether 
living  with  his  mother  or  grandmother,  so  that  changes 
did  not  wring  from  him  any  particular  demonstration. 

At  the  Skillington  school  he  was  not  distinguished  for 
close  application  to  study.  He  was  by  no  means  an 
idle  boy,  nor  was  he  mischievous  in  any  sense ;  but  he 
liked  some  other  things  more  than  he  did  study.  He 


166  TURNING  POINTS. 

had  access  to  a  set  of  tools,  and  he  found  greater  delight 
in  the  use  of  these  than  he  did  in  literature  or  science. 
His  mind  took  a  mechanical  turn,  and  he  preferred  to 
see  what  he  could  make  with  a  jack-plane  and  chisel 
than  how  difficult  problems  he  could  solve  in  mathemat- 
ics. He  had  no  particular  taste  for  the  sports  or  mis- 
chief in  which  the  other  schoolboys  participated,  so  long 
as  he  could  have  access  to  the  coveted  set  of  tools  in  the 
workshop.  He  found  more  solid  enjoyment  in  complet- 
ing some  useful  article,  as  a  ruler,  box,  or  bootjack,  than 
he  did  in  the  liveliest  game  of  ball  that  was  ever  played. 
And  yet  he  possessed  a  pleasant,  happy  disposition,  and 
was  appreciated  by  his  schoolmates.  A  brighter  and 
more  intelligent  lad  was  not  known  in  the  school. 

But  the  time  for  a  change  had  come.  There  was  a 
fiery  sort  of  a  boy  in  his  class,  a  talented  and  aspiring 
scholar,  but  quick-tempered  and  hasty.  In  some  way 
his  ire  was  aroused  against  Isaac ;  and,  to  the  surprise 
of  the  latter,  he  kicked  him  madly  in  the  stomach.  It 
was  a  violent  blow,  and  caused  him  great  pain  for  a 
short  time,  threatening  to  prove  a  more  serious  matter 
than  it  did.  Isaac  was  neither  vexed  nor  vengeful. 
He  was  not  disposed  to  kick  back,  or  to  retaliate  in  any 
mean,  contemptible  way.  In  this  he  showed  that  he 
was  thoughtful  and  manly  above  the  average  of  boys. 
But  he  did  resolve  to  be  revenged  on  the  boy  who  kicked 
him,  by  getting  above  him  in  the  class,  and  outstripping 
him  in  intellectual  advancement,  as  he  was  sure  that  he 
could.  If  there  was  ever  any  excusable  way  of  being 
revenged,  this  was  certainly  it;  and,  on  the  whole,  it 
was  rather  creditable  to  him  than  otherwise.  He  com- 
pletely changed  his  method  of  study  from  that  hour, 


SIR  ISAAC  NEWTON.  167 

and  devoted  himself  to  every  branch  of  learning  re- 
quired with  an  industry  and  perseverance  that  won  his 
teachers'  admiration. 

This  was  the  point  of  his  life  where  he  turned  and 
took  another  road.  His  progress  became  noticeable  at 
once.  He  went  up  higher  and  higher.  Nor  did  he 
stop  when  privileged  to  look  down  upon  his  old  foe ;  but 
he  kept  on  achieving,  delighting  and  surprising  his  in- 
structors. When  he  turned,  he  turned  for  his  lifetime ; 
and  went  on  crowding  it  with  study,  deeds,  inventions, 
discoveries,  and  victories. 

At  twelve  years  of  age  he  was  sent  to  school  at 
Grantham,  where  the  principal  called  him  a  "  sober, 
silent,  thinking  lad,"  just  the  kind  of  a  lad  to  make  his 
mark ;  for  such  a  lad  is  studious,  observing,  inquiring, 
aspiring,  and  resolute.  A  "  thinking  lad "  is  always 
heard  from  later  on.  Isaac  Newton  was  heard  from,  and 
in  that  school  too.  He  took  the  lead  in  every  branch 
of  knowledge  that  he  pursued,  and,  at  the  same  time, 
kept  his  eyes  open  in  the  direction  of  his  natural  bent. 

A  windmill  was  erected  a  short  distance  from  the 
school,  and  he  watched  the  building  of  it  with  deep 
interest.  When  it  was  completed,  he  produced  a  small 
model  of  it,  and  put  it  upon  the  top  of  a  building, 
where  the  wind  whirled  it  in  the  most  approved  •  man- 
ner. Both  teachers  and  scholars  praised  the  ingenuity 
that  could  produce  so  perfect  a  model. 

At  the  same  school,  without  interfering  at  all  with  his 
studies  (for  he  had  not  forgotten  the  painful  kick),  he 
invented  the  paper  kite.  It  was  the  outcome  of  much 
thought  and  real  scientific  knowledge.  No  such  toy 
had  been  hitherto  known,  so  that  it  was  original  with 


168  TURNING  POINTS. 

him,  and  was  far  more  wonderful  than  the  windmill. 
It  created  a  great  furor  of  interest  and  wonder  among 
the  pupils,  and  also  among  outsiders  at  last,  when  they 
discovered  that  they  had  mistaken  the  paper  lantern  on 
Isaac's  kite  on  a  dark  night  for  a  comet  or  meteor.  It 
was  one  of  his  original  ways  of  creating  additional 
amusement  to  send  up  his  kite  at  night  with  a  paper 
lantern  attached  to  it.  From  that  day  down  to  the 
present  time  the  kite  has  constituted  no  small  part  of 
the  sport  of  young  humanity  in  all  lands.  But  for  that 
painful  kick,  that  forced  Isaac  to  turn  from  the  error  of 
his  ways,  the  world  of  sport  might  have  been  kiteless 
to-day. 

Isaac  boarded  in  the  family  of  a  surgeon  when  he  was 
at  Grantham.  He  delighted  in  astronomy,  and  watched 
the  movements  of  the  celestial  bodies  with  wonder.  By 
watching  the  shadows  as  they  passed  slowly  along  the 
wall  of  his  lodging  and  the  roofs  of  the  adjoining 
houses,  he  devised  and  formed  a  dial  for  his  own  use. 
By  much  study  and  perseverance  he  perfected  it  so  that 
it  was  "  a  good  timepiece,"  and  was  called  "  Isaac's 
Dial."  Long  after  the  inventor  left  the  school,  the 
"  dial "  was  used  by  the  surgeon's  family. 

Notwithstanding  the  inventive  genius  which  Isaac 
possessed,  he  was  expected  to  be  a  farmer.  At  fifteen 
years  of  age  he  was  taken  out  of  school,  and  returned 
to  Woolsthorpe,  to  labor  on  the  farm.  But  he  had  no 
tact  for  cultivating  the  soil,  growing  corn,  breeding 
sheep,  or  fattening  cattle.  On  Saturdays  he  went  to 
market  at  Grantham  with  the  products  of  the  farm,  but 
took  very  little  interest  in  the  sale  of  grain,  pigs,  or 
anything  else.  He  was  quite  likely  to  run  over  to  his 


SIR  ISAAC  NEWTON.  169 

old  school  quarters  to  pore  over  some  volume  until  the 
servant  had  sold  the  goods  and  was  ready  to  return. 
Indeed,  sometimes  he  did  not  even  enter  the  town ;  but, 
taking  a  book  along  with  him,  he  would  sit  down  under 
a  shady  tree  to  study  until  the  hired  man  returned  from 
market. 

He  had  an  uncle  who  was  a  minister ;  and  one  day  he 
found  Isaac  under  a  hedge  reading  a  book,  in  which  he 
was  so  thoroughly  absorbed  that  he  did  not  notice  his 
uncle's  approach.  What  was  the  good  rector's  surprise 
to  find  that  the  boy  was  solving  a  difficult  mathematical 
problem ;  and  he  concluded  that  it  was  useless  to  try  to 
make  a  farmer  of  such  a  studious  boy.  Immediately  he 
besought  the  mother  to  abandon  her  idea  of  making 
a  farmer  of  her  son.  "  Send  him  to  school ;  give  him  a 
chance  to  show  what  he  is ;  he  was  born  for  a  scholar," 
he  said. 

In  consequence,  Isaac  was  sent  to  school,  and  finally 
entered  Trinity  College,  Cambridge.  Here  he  revelled 
in  the  facilities  for  acquiring  knowledge  through  re- 
search and  persistent  industry.  Physically  he  was  able 
to  endure  almost  any  degree  of  mental  strain,  so  that 
his  hours  of  labor  were  out  of  all  proportion  to  his 
hours  of  rest.  At  twenty-five  years  of  age  he  was  well 
known  as  a  philosopher  in  the  scientific  world ;  and  at 
thirty  he  was  elected  to  membership  of  the  Royal 
Society  —  an  honor  never  before  bestowed  upon  one  so 
young. 

It  would  require  many  pages  to  record  all  of  his  in- 
ventions, discoveries,  and  achievements  in  mechanics  and 
science.  Immediately  after  he  was  graduated  at  Trinity 
College,  "he  applied  himself  to  the  grinding  of  optic 


170  TURNING  POINTS. 

glasses  of  other  figures  than  spherical."  Sir  David 
Brewster  wrote,  "  And  having,  no  doubt,  experienced  the 
impracticability  of  executing  such  lenses,  the  idea  of  ex- 
amining the  phenomena  of  color  was  one  of  those  saga- 
cious and  fortunate  impulses  which  more  than  once  led 
him  to  discovery."  The  result  was  that  "  he  constructed 
several  telescopes,  the  most  perfect  and  powerful  of 
which  was  sent  to  the  Royal  Society,  in  whose  posses- 
sion it  is  still  carefully  preserved." 

He  was  engaged  in  this  work  when  the  plague  broke 
out  in  London ;  and  he  was  obliged  to  retire  to  Wools- 
thorpe,  a  very  fortunate  event  for  him,  because  in  the 
two  years  he  remained  in  Woolsthorpe  he  discovered  the 
law  of  gravitation.  He  was  in  the  orchard  reflecting 
upon  some  complex  theme  of  science,  when  a  falling 
apple  arrested  his  attention,  and  the  great  truth  that 
laid  the  foundation  of  his  "  Principia  "  dawned  upon  his 
mind.  Although  it  Avas  sixteen  years  before  that  won- 
derful work  was  given  complete  to  the  public,  the  dis- 
covery was  made  when  he  witnessed  the  fall  of  the 
apple  in  the  orchard.  Laplace  said  of  the  "  Principia," 
"  It  is  entitled  to  a  pre-eminence  above  all  the  other  pro- 
ductions of  the  human  intellect." 

Without  enlarging  upon  Newton's  achievements  in 
science,  or  attempting  to  enumerate  his  scientific  books 
and  essays,  we  may  add  that  at  fifty  years  of  age  he  was 
spoken  of  as  an  "able  divine."  He  had  written  much 
upon  religious  subjects  that  were  widely  discussed,  and 
issued  his  "  Observations  on  the  Prophecies  of  Daniel 
and  the  Apocalypse  of  St.  John,"  and  "  Historical  Ac- 
count of  Two  Notable  Corruptions  of  Scripture."  His 
labors  in  the  field  of  religious  knowledge  were  not  so 


SIR  ISAAC 'NEWTON.  171 

extensive  as  they  were  in  the  realm  of  science,  but  they 
were  equally  thorough  and  profound. 

With  all  his  greatness,  Newton  was  a  very  modest, 
unassuming  man.  In  a  letter  to  Dr.  Bentley  he  wrote, 
"  If  I  have  done  the  public  any  service  this  way,  it  is 
due  to  nothing  but  industry  and  patient  thought,"  a 
declaration  that  may  well  be  pondered  by  the  students 
of  our  time.  He  discarded  the  idea  that  he  was  a 
genius,  and  wished  the  world  to  know  that  industry  and 
patient  research  had  achieved  all.  AVhen  asked  how  it 
was  that  he  arrived  at  his  discoveries,  he  replied,  "I 
keep  the  subject  constantly  before  me,  and  wait  till  the 
first  dawnings  open  slowly,  little  and  little,  into  a  full, 
and  clear  light." 

He  went  to  London  to  preside  at  the.  meeting  of  the 
Koyal  Society  on  Feb.  28,  1727,  when  he  was  eighty- 
five  years  old.  The  effort  was  too  much  for  his  wan- 
ing strength,  and  he  was  prostrated  and  died  there. 
His  sudden  death  was  regarded  as  a  calamity  to  the 
world,  and  the  greatest  pomp  and  mournful  display 
attended  his  funeral.  He  was  laid  in  Westminster 
Abbey  among-  the  illustrious  dead  of  past  generations, 
whose  lives  and  labors  adorned  their  country.  In  1831 
a  monument,  costing  nearly  three  thousand  dollars, 
was  erected  to  his  memory  in  the  Abbey.  Another 
monument  in  the  College  at  Cambridge  bears  an  in- 
scription declaring  him  to  be  the  most  gifted  man  who 
ever  lived.  In  his  garden  was  placed  an  arm-chair  made 
out  of  the  tree  from  which  he  saw  the  apple  fall.  A 
multitude  of  devices  in  honor  of  the  great  man  appeared 
in  many  countries,  for  he  belonged  to  the  world. 


172  TURNING  POINTS. 


XXI. 

CHARLES   SUMNER 

THE    PROVIDENCE    THAT    FORCED    HIM    INTO    PUBLIC 
LIFE. 

CHARLES  SUMNER  was  born  in  Boston,  Jan.  6,  1811, 
and  died  in  Washington,  March  11,  1874.  His  father 
was  a  lawyer  of  note,  a  graduate  of  Harvard  College  of 
the  class  of  1796.  He  was  a  strong  man  mentally,  a 
lover  of  good  literature,  and  scholarly  on  certain  lines. 
He  was  a  fearless  man  also,  prepared  on  all  occasions  to 
stand  by  his  convictions,  whether  he  stood  alone  or  not. 
In  his  views  and  methods  of  life  he  was  a  true  Puritan, 
well  qualified  for  public  life. 

At  that  time  anti-slavery  advocates  were  few,  and  he 
was  one  of  the  few.  He  saw  clearly  the  inhumanity 
and  guilt  of  slavery,  and  did  not  hesitate  to  express  and 
defend  his  sentiments.  That  he  regarded  it  as  "  the 
sum  of  all  villanies  "  no  one  who  knew  him  had  any 
doubt.  A  more  independent  and  heroic  citizen  than  he 
did  not  live.  He  believed  that  human  slavery  had  no 
moral  right  to  exist,  and  ought  not  to  have  any  legal 
right. 

His  wife,  the  mother  of  Charles,  was  a  true  help- 
mate, —  intelligent,  fond  of  learning  and  uprightness, 
and  always  in  sympathy  with  her  husband's  most  ad- 


CHARLES   SUMMER. 


CHARLES   SUMNER.  173 

vanced  thoughts.  Her  maternal  qualities  were  of  the 
highest  order;  just  the  mother  to  lead  nine  children  in 
the  way  they  should  go.  That  they  were  well  drilled 
in  the  sentiments  of  their  parents  on  social  and  moral 
questions  their  lives  proved  conclusively.  The  aristoc- 
racy of  Boston  was  then  pro-slavery,  and  favored  also 
some  social  customs  that  were  not  Puritanic.  But  this 
fact  had  no  weight  with  Mrs.  Sumner ;  she  stood  by  her 
own  convictions. 

Charles  and  Matilda  were  the  eldest,  —  twins.  Very 
early  in  life  Charles  developed  a  great  thirst  for  knowl- 
edge, and  his  parents  fostered  it  all  they  could.  He 
was  a  small  boy  when  he  purchased  a  Latin  grammar 
of  a  schoolmate  for  a  few  cents.  His  father  hailed  this 
purchase  as  showing  the  bent  of  his  mind ;  and  he  thor- 
oughly believed  that  boys  should  follow  their  natural 
inclinations  in  choosing  an  occupation.  So  he  eulogized 
the  Latin  grammar  and  the  boy  who  was  in  love  with 
it.  That  the  grammar  exerted  a  decided  influence  upon 
the  life  of  the  son  the  parents  never  doubted. 

Charles  was  unusually  thoughtful  and  quiet  in  school 
and  out.  Much  of  the  time  he  seemed  to  be  thinking  of 
something  important.  The  family  government  under 
which  he  was  reared  was  well  suited  to  beget  this  frame 
of  mind.  And  his  conversation,  with  his  facile  use  of 
the  English  language,  was  proof  that  he  was  in  advance 
of  his  playfellows  in  mental  grasp.  He  was  thinking 
even  then  of  becoming  a  man  of  letters. 

At  eleven  years  of  age  he  was  well  versed  in  the  com- 
mon branches  of  study,  and  had  made  considerable  prog- 
ress in  Latin  at  home,  without  assistance,  except  such  as 
his  father  was  able  to  grant.  At  this  age  he  was  placed 


174  TURNING  POINTS. 

in  the  Latin  School  of  the  city,  where  James  Freeman 
Clarke,  Wendell  Phillips,  and  Kobert  C.  Winthrop  were 
pupils.  He  was  a  very  industrious  student,  perhaps  not 
brilliant,  but  one  of  the  class  who  wins  by  application. 
He  excelled  in  the  classics,  also  in  general  information, 
and  was  second  to  none  in  writing  compositions. 

At  fifteen  he  left  the  Latin  School  for  Harvard  Col- 
lege. At  that  time  he  was  a  remarkable  youth  for  his 
acquisition  of  knowledge.  As  proof  of  his  painstaking 
efforts,  he  had  "  made  a  compend  of  English  history  in 
eighty-six  pages  of  a  copy-book."  He  was  a  good  judge 
and  admirer  of  eloquence,  and  dearly  loved  to  listen  to 
the  able  speakers  of  that  day.  Just  before  entering 
Harvard  College  he  heard  President  John  Quincy  Adams 
speak  in  Faneuil  Hall,  and  Daniel  Webster  deliver  his 
eulogy  upon  Adams  and  Jefferson.  He  derived  from 
these  great  efforts  an  inspiration  that  served  him  well 
through  life. 

In  college  he  excelled  in  everything  but  mathematics. 
"  In  the  classics  and  history  and  f orensics,  and  in  belles- 
lettres,  he  was  among  the  best  scholars."  He  lost  no 
time.  He  had  no  disposition  to  engage  in  sports,  loved 
to  read  better  than  to  go  into  society,  and  meant  that 
each  day  should  attest  to  some  advancement.  Good 
habits,  thirst  for  knowledge,  and  a  conscientious  im- 
provement of  time,  pushed  him  ahead  rapidly. 

He  was  graduated  at  nineteen.  Then  he  spent  a 
whole  year  "in  a  wide  range  of  reading  and  study  in 
the  Latin  classics  and  in  general  literature."  He  also 
set  himself  resolutely  to  work  to  master  mathematics, 
and  accomplished  his  purpose.  In  addition,  he  wrote  a 
prize  essay  on  commerce,  and  embraced  every  opportu- 


CHARLES    SUMNER.  175 

nity  to  listen  to  such  Boston  orators  as  Webster,  Everett, 
Choate,  and  Charming.  It  was  a  year  of  the  greatest 
value  to  him. 

In  September,  1831,  he  entered  the  Harvard  Law 
School,  where  he  distinguished  himself  in  handling 
legal  questions,  and  pursuing  his  studies  with  the 
greatest  enthusiasm.  He  was  admitted  to  the  bar  in 
September,  1834.  At  the  same  time  his  tastes  and 
aspirations  were  those  of  a  scholar  rather  than  those 
of  an  attorney-at-law. 

Slavery  was  then  becoming  an  exciting  topic  of  dis- 
cussion throughout  the  North.  Sunnier  had  no  more 
respect  for  the  wicked  institution  than  his  father  had. 
Nor  was  he  slow  or  afraid  to  express  his  opinion.  He 
had  no  ambition  for  political  life,  nor  did  he  appear  to 
be  in  the  least  conscious  of  his  superior  abilities.  While 
he  hated  slavery,  he  laid  no  plans  to  antagonize  it. 

In  1835  he  visited  Washington,  and  spent  a  month  in 
that  city.  On  his  journey  through  Maryland  he  beheld 
slaves  for  the  first  time  in  his  life  ;  and  their  appearance 
served  to  increase  his  hostility  to  the  institution  that 
deprived  them  of  manhood.  Nor  was  he  favorably  im- 
pressed by  the  politics  and  moral  condition  of  the 
nation's  capital.  He  wrote  to  his  father  :  "  Calhoun  has 
given  notice  that  he  will  speak  to-morrow  on  Mr.  Web- 
ster's bank  bill.  I  shall  probably  hear  him,  and  he  will 
be  the  last  man  I  shall  ever  hear  speak  in  Washington.  I 
probably  shall  never  come  here  again.  I  have  little  or 
no  desire  ever  to  come  again  in  any  capacity.  Nothing 
that  I  have  seen  of  politics* has  made  me  look  upon  it 
with  any  feeling  other  than  loathing." 

Sunnier  attended  closely  to  his  law  business,  deliver- 


176  TURNING   POINTS. 

ing  speeches  and  lectures  here  and  there,  all  the  while 
growing  in  popularity  and  influence.  He  interested 
himself  in  all  great  public  questions,  not  as  a  politician, 
but  as  a  scholar  and  patriotic  citizen.  Popular  educa- 
tion as  mapped  out  by  Horace  Mann,  the  anti-slavery 
cause,  the  prison-discipline  movement,  the  cause  of 
peace,  and  kindred  enterprises,  enlisted  at  once  his  in- 
terest and  co-operation.  AVherever  he  spoke,  and  to 
whatever  he  gave  his  support,  he  showed  signal  mental 
grasp  and  power. 

In  1845  he  was  invited  to  deliver  the  Fourth  of  July 
oration  before  the  civil  authorities  of  Boston.  His 
theme  was  "The  True  Grandeur  of  Nations,"  and  his 
treatment  of  it  was  masterful.  "  It  was  an  elaborate 
treatise,  full  of  learning  and  precedent  and  historical 
illustration,  of  forcible  argument  and  powerful  moral 
appeal."  It  placed  Sunnier  in  the  front  rank  of  schol- 
ars and  orators.  It  proved,  also,  that  he  was  an  inde- 
pendent and  fearless  thinker  and  actor ;  that  he  could 
be  trusted  in  the  hottest  battle  for  the  right.  From  that 
day  and  hour  he  was  a  marked  man.  He  had  reached 
the  crisis  of  his  life.  The  popular  feeling  required  that 
he  should  turn  his  back  upon  his  scholarly  pursuits  and 
enter  the  political  arena.  He  was  just  the  man  to 
champion  the  cause  of  liberty  in  Congress ;  mentally 
and  morally  powerful,  and  as  courageous  for  humanity 
as  Napoleon  was  for  conquest.  Sumner  said,  "  No ;  " 
but  the  people  would  not  take  no  for  an  answer. 

This  public  sentiment  was  intensified  four  months 
later,  when  he  delivered  his  great  speech  in  Faneuil 
Hall  against  the  admission  of  Texas.  It  was  an  un- 
compromising and  aggressive  speech  against  the  slave 


CHARLES   SUMNER.  177 

oligarchy,  and  proved  to  the  anti-slavery  forces  that 
Sumner  was  the  man  to  fight  their  battles  in  the  United 
States  Senate.  But  he  as  resolutely  set  himself  against 
the  measure,  and  declared,  in  public  and  in  private,  that 
he  would  not  enter  political  life.  Nevertheless,  he  was 
nominated  for  'Congress  in  1846 ;  but  he  immediately 
and  peremptorily  declined,  and  warmly  supported  Dr. 
Samuel  G.  Howe,  who  was  nominated  in  his  place. 
And  yet  the  opponents  of  slavery  did  not  abandon 
the  idea  that  Sumner  must  represent  them  at  Wash- 
ington at  a  future  day.  They  talked,  worked,  and  im- 
portuned for  it ;  and  Providence  was  evidently  with 
them. 

Sumner  was  never  more  honest  than  when  he  refused 
to  enter  upon  a  political  career.  He  seemed  to  possess 
a  born  aversion  to  a  political  life,  as  he  said  that  he 
loathed  it.  He  was  not  conscious  of  his^  power  on  that 
line,  and  did  not  even  surmise  that  God  was  opening  a 
great  door  of  opportunity  before  him.  He  did  not  wish 
to  go  to  Congress,  and  he  did  not  mean  to  go.  His 
plans  and  purposes  were  altogether  in  another  di- 
rection. 

These  facts,  with  the  sequel,  show  that  while  "man 
deviseth  his  own  way,  the  Lord  directeth  his  steps." 
For  in  1851  he  was  so  deeply  involved  in  the  political 
struggle  for  freedom,  that  he  could  not  consistently 
decline  to  represent  the  Commonwealth  at  Washington, 
and  was  elected  to  the  Senate  of  the  United  States. 
He  accepted  the  position  with  painful  reluctance ;  and 
on  his  way  to  Washington  he  poured  out  his  feelings 
in  a  letter  to  Dr.  Howe  as  follows  :  — 

"  Three  times  yesterday  I  wept  like  a  child.     I  could 


178  TURNING   POINTS. 

not  help  it.  First  in  parting  with  Longfellow,  next  in 
parting  with  you,  and  lastly  as  I  left  my  mother  and 
sister.  I  stand  now  on  the  edge  of  a  great  change.  In 
the  vicissitudes  of  life  I  cannot  see  the  future,  but  I 
know  that  I  now  move  away  from  those  who  have  been 
more  than  brothers  to  me.  My  soul  is  wrung,  and  my 
eyes  are  bleared  with  tears.*' 

He  had  found  his  place,  but  knew  it  not.  He  felt, 
evidently,  that  he  was  doing  God's  will  in  opposing 
slavery,  and  that  liberty  would  finally  win.  "  Nothing 
is  settled  that  is  not  settled  right,"  he  said ;  and  went 
to  work  to  destroy  the  inhuman  claim  of  property  in 
man.  At  last  he  found  himself  where  he  had  never 
planned  to  be;  doing  work  that  he  had  declared  he 
never  would  do ;  and  accepting  politics  which  he  hated, 
in  place  of  literature  which  he  loved.  How  clear  that 
Providence  forced  him  into  the  niche  that  proved  the 
glory  of  his  life  ! 

The  story  of  his  public  life  is  known  the  world  over. 
At  an  epoch  when  the  life  of  the  republic  was  threat- 
ened as  never  before,  he  began  his  political  career  in 
behalf  of  freedom.  He  told  Longfellow  to  write  poems 
that  would  arouse  the  whole  land.  At  the  same  time 
he  made  speeches  that  stirred  the  nation  from  Maine 
to  Louisiana.  His  speeches  upon  "  Freedom  National, 
Slavery  Sectional,"  "  The  Kansas-Nebraska  Bill,"  "  The 
Crime  Against  Kansas,"  "The  Barbarism  of  Slavery," 
not  to  mention  others,  were  masterly  efforts ;  and  their 
unanswerable  logic  maddened  the  hordes  of  slavery. 
Sumner  was  their  most  powerful  opponent;  and  their 
bitterness  of  feeling  towards  him  \vas  gall.  Two  ^days 
after  his  famous  speech  on  "  The  Crime  Against  Kansas  " 


CHARLES  SUMNER.  179 

(May  20, 1856),  as  Sumner  was  writing  at  his  desk,  after 
the  Senate  had  adjourned,  Preston  S.  Brooks,  a  repre- 
sentative from  South  Carolina,  approached  him,  and 
struck  him  down  with  a  bludgeon,  nearly  killing  him 
on  the  spot.  The  cowardly  act  fired  the  North  with 
intenser  hatred  against  slavery,  and  from  that  hour  the 
institution  was  doomed.  The  friends  of  liberty  were 
wrought  up  to  a  pitch  of  enthusiasm,  where  they  ex- 
claimed with  Adams,  "  Give  me  liberty  or  give  me 
death ! " 

Sumner  was  not  able  to  resume  his  seat  for  four 
years.  Under  the  best  medical  and  surgical  treatment 
in  this  country  and  Europe  he  finally  regained  his 
health  siifficiently  to  return  to  the  Senate,  though  not 
to  take  active  part  in  debate  for  several  months.  As 
soon  as  he  was  able  to  resume  his  duties  with  old-time 
force,  he  delivered  his  powerful  speech  upon  the  "  Bar- 
barism of  Slavery,"  which  aroused  the  men  of  the  North 
like  a  clarion.  The  bludgeon  of  the  would-be  assassin 
could  lay  him  senseless  for  the  time,  but  neither  bludgeon 
nor  bullet  could  destroy  the  conviction  and  heroism  of 
his  soul  for  the  right.  To  his  last  sickness  and  death 
he  bent  all  his  energies  to  overthrow  slavery,  and  lived 
to  see  it  go  down  in  blood. 

One  of  his  biographers  says,  "Among  American 
statesmen  his  life  especially  illustrates  the  truth  he 
early  expressed,  that  politics  is  but  the  application  of 
moral  principles  to  public  affairs.  Throughout  his  pub- 
lic career  he  was  the  distinctive  representative  of  the 
moral  conviction  and  political  purpose  of  New  England. 
His  ample  learning  and  various  accomplishments  were 
rivalled  among  American  public  men  only  by  those  of 


180  TURNING  POINTS. 

John  Quincy  Adams ;  and  during  all  the  fury  of  politi- 
cal passion  in  which  he  lived  there  was  never  a  whisper 
or  suspicion  of  his  political  honesty  or  his  personal  in- 
tegrity. He  was  fortunate  in  the  peculiar  adaptation 
of  his  qualities  to  his  time.  His  profound  conviction, 
supreme  conscientiousness,  indomitable  will,  affluent  re- 
sources, and  inability  to  compromise ;  his  legal  training, 
serious  temper,  and  untiring  energy  were  indispensable 
in  the  final  stages  of  the  slavery  controversy,  and  he 
had  them  all  in  the  highest  degree. 

"  He  was  absolutely  fearless.  During  the  heat  of 
the  controversy  in  Congress  his  life  was  undoubtedly 
in  danger,  and  he  was  urged  to  carry  a  pistol  in  his 
defence.  He  laughed,  and  said  that  he  never  fired  a 
pistol  in  his  life ;  and,  in  case  of  extremity,  before  he 
could  possibly  get  it  out  of  his  pocket  he  would  be 
shot.  But  the  danger  was  so  real  that,  unknown  to 
himself,  he  wras  for  a  long  time  under  the  constant 
protection  of  armed  friends  in  Washington." 

Sumner's  death  occurred  March  11,  1874.  No  doubt 
it  was  hastened  by  the  assault  of  Brooks,  so  that  he 
was  really  a  martyr  to  the  cause  of  freedom.  That 
his  public  career  at  Washington  was  a  powerful  agency 
in  ridding  the  land  of  slavery  is  universally  conceded ; 
an  influence  that  the  nation  never  would  have  realized, 
had  not  Providence  forced  him  to  exchange  letters  for 
politics. 


WILLIAM   WILBERFORCE.  181 


XXII. 

WILLIAM  WILBERFORCE. 

THE    COUNSEL    FOB    CHARITY    THAT    CROWNED    HIM    A 
PHILANTHROPIST. 

WILLIAM  WILBERFORCE  was  born  in  the  town  of 
Beverly,  England,  Aug.  24,  1759.  He  was  very  feeble 
as  a  child ;  so  much  so  that  his  father  said  it  would  be 
quite  impossible  to  raise  so  puny  an  infant  in  less  civil- 
ized times.  But  as  he  grew  older  he  grew  stronger,  and 
early  showed  that  he  possessed  a  very  discriminating 
and  active  mind.  His  affection,  too,  was  of  the  demon- 
strative kind,  especially  his  affection  for  his  excellent 
mother.  When  a  mere  toddling  boy  he  would  steal  into 
his  mother's  room  when  she  was  sick,  removing  his 
shoes  that  he  might  not  disturb  her,  and,  peering  into 
her  pale  face,  inquire  if  she  were  better. 

His  grandfather  was  a  business  man  of  considerable 
wealth,  and  very  much  respected  for  his  talents,  public 
spirit,  and  integrity.  One  of  his  intimate  friends  was 
the  Duke  of  Marlborough,  whose  friendship  seemed  to 
inspire  him  with  military  ardor.  He  rendered  noble 
service  when  the  arsenal  of  Hull  was  prepared  for  an 
expected  attack  by  the  Scottish  insurgents  in  1745.  In 
the  eyes  of  his  little  grandson  he  was  not  only  a  great 
but  a  good  man. 


182  TURNING  POINTS. 

At  a  very  early  age  William  gave  signs  of  marked 
colloquial  powers,  so  that  friends  prophesied  distinction 
for  him  on  this  line.  Also  in  his  childhood,  evidence  of 
decided  elocutionary  ability  appeared.  Even  before  he 
was  sent  away  to  the  grammar  school  at  Hull,  these 
qualities  were  so  manifest  as  to  elicit  remarks  of  sur- 
prise from  those  who  heard  him. 

At  seven  years  of  age  he  became  a  member  of  the 
above-named  school,  of  which  Joseph  Milner  was  mas- 
ter. Here  he  was  a  studious  boy,  especially  gifted  in 
the  command  of  language  and  the  graces  of  eloquence. 
Later  on  a  brother  of  Mr.  Milner,  who  was  his  assistant, 
and  subsequently  known  as  the  Dean  of  Carlisle,  became 
William's  teacher ;  and  he  was  very  much  impressed  by 
the  qualities  of  the  lad.  This  teacher  possessed  extraor- 
dinary colloquial  powers,  and  in  his  department  ranked 
as  a  superior  instructor.  His  discipline  of  William  must 
have  been  somewhat  remarkable  ;  for  many  years  there- 
after, Madame  de  Stae'l  declared  that  Wilberforce  was 
the  best  converser  she  had  ever  met  in  Europe ;  and  she 
added  that  it  was  in  a  great  measure  due  to  his  early 
training  by  the  teacher  named.  At  this  school  he  be- 
came so  remarkable  as  a  reader,  that  his  teachers  would 
place  him  on  the  table  to  read  aloud,  as  an  example  to 
the  other  boys.  He  spent  two  years  here,  and  they  were 
two  years  of  decided  improvement,  which  William  en- 
joyed as  only  a  lover  of  study  could.  In  consequence 
of  his  father's  death  he  was  removed,  and  "transferred 
to  the  care  of  his  uncle,  with  whom  he  went  to  live  at 
Wimbleton  and  St.  James  Place,  London.  The  former 
residence  afterward  became  his  own,  and  was  dignified 
by  the  frequent  visits  of  William  Pitt,  when  that  great 


WILLIAM   WILBEItFORCE.  183 

statesman  exchanged  the  cares  of  state  for  the  luxuri- 
ous ease  and  country  air  which  the  place  afforded." 

Subsequently  his  uncle  sent  him  to  a  school  for  two 
years,  where  there  was  neither  enjoyment  nor  improve- 
ment for  him.  One  of  his  biographers  describes  it 
thus  :  "  The  master  was  a  Scotchman,  and  had  an  usher 
of  the  same  nation,  whose  red  beard  —  for  it  was  scarcely 
shaved  once  a  month  —  made  a  lasting  impression  on  his 
memory.  The  pupils  were  taught  Latin,  French,  arith- 
metic, and  a  little  Greek.  Wilberforce  was  a  parlor- 
boarder,  and,  late  in  life,  remembered  with  a  shudder 
that  the  food  with  which  he  was  supplied  was  so  nau- 
seous that  he  could  not  eat  it  without  a  feeling  of  sick- 
ness. The  two  years  of  his  sojourn  there  had  something 
of  variety  imparted  to  them  by  the  visits  he  paid  to 
Nottingham  and  Hull,  where  he  was  considered  a  fine, 
quick  lad,  whose  activity  and  spirit  amply  made  up  for 
some  deficiency  of  physical  vigor." 

It  was  on  one  of  his  visits  to  Nottingham  that  an 
incident  occurred  which  gave  direction  to  his  whole 
future  life,  as  he  always  claimed.  A  brother  of  his 
aunt,  a  member  of  the  family,  was  very  much  pleased 
with  William's  character,  and  found  real  pleasure  in 
his  society.  He  regarded  him  as  a  boy  of  unusual 
promise.  One  day  he  made  him  a  present  of  quite  a 
sum  of  money,  considerable  more  than  a  boy  of  his  age 
\isually  receives.  He  accompanied  the  gift,  however, 
with  the  counsel  that  a  part  of  it  should  be  given  to 
the  poor.  Perhaps  the  giver  designed  the  gift  for  a 
test  or  discipline,  and  so  imparted  the  advice  he  did. 
Be  that  as  it  may,  the  advice  was  given  in  such  a  way 
that  it  impressed  William  deeply,  and  set  him  to  think- 


184  TURNING  POINTS. 

ing  upon  his  duties  to  the  poor  and  unfortunate.  But 
for  the  counsel  that  accompanied  that  gift  Wilberforce 
said  he  might  never  have  been  inclined  to  a  philan- 
thropic life.  That  was  the  turning-point,  in  his  own 
estimation,  and  the  outcome  was  the  great  philanthropist 
of  that  generation. 

In  his  uncle's  family  he  was  under  a  strong  religious 
influence,  his  aunt  being  a  warm-hearted  Methodist, 
whose  life  had  received  direction  from  the  preaching 
of  Whitefield.  She  was  more  enthusiastic  in  her  reli- 
gious activities  than  some  of  her  relatives  approved. 
William's  grandfather  remarked,  "  Billy  shall  travel 
with  Milner  when  he  is  of  age ;  but  if  Billy  turns 
Methodist  he  shall  not  have  a  sixpence  of  mine."  The 
Methodists  Avere  very  unjustly  treated  at  that  time,  and 
the  grandfather's  sympathies  were  with  their  opponents. 
This  remark  led  his  mother,  who  was  a  woman  of  culti- 
vated talents,  to  take  him  home,  where  he  was  exposed 
to  the  temptations  of  gay  society.  William  was  twelve 
years  old  then,  and-  it  nearly  broke  his  heart  to  leave 
his  uncle  and  aunt  who  had  treated  him  with  as  much 
tenderness  as  they  would  have  treated  a  son.  He  wrote 
to  his  uncle,  "  I  can  never  forget  you  as  long  as  I  live." 

The  amusements  of  Hull  were  the  theatre,  card-parties, 
balls,  suppers,  and  kindred  pleasures,  to  which  William 
was  introduced  for  a  purpose.  He  was  quite  a  musician, 
and  could  entertain  a  company  with  both  vocal  and  in- 
strumental music ;  and  this  accomplishment  exposed 
him  still  more  to  the  allurements  of  worldly  pleasure. 
Gradually  he  lost  his  interest  in  religious  things,  and 
became  much  like  his  gay  companions,  although  the 
religious  impressions  made  in  his  uncle's  family  were 


WILLIAM   WILBEEFORCE.  185 

never  wholly  obliterated.  Especially  his  familiarity 
with  the  Scriptures  remained,  and  doubtless  kept  him 
from  becoming  worthless. 

At  fourteen  he  was  placed  in  the  grammar  school 
at  Pecklington,  where  his  superior  talents  were  recog- 
nized, as  well  as  his  hostility  to  the  slave-trade.  He 
wrote  an  article  for  a  York  paper  before  he  was  fifteen, 
denouncing  the  traffic  in  human  beings  as  barbarous ; 
and  the  article  attracted  considerable  attention. 

In  October,  1776,  he  entered  St.  John's  College,  Cam- 
bridge. Here  he  met  more  and  greater  temptations 
than  ever.  He  was  introduced  at  once  to  a  class  of 
the  wildest  students  in  the  institution,  who  left  no  stone 
unturned  to  lure  him  into  their  orgies.  But  their  ex- 
treme rudeness  and  immorality  so  disgusted  him  that 
he  discarded  them,  and  sought  better  companions.  Had 
their  moral  corruption  been  more  refined  and  wary,  he 
might  have  been  lured  into  vicious  ways.  As  it  was,  he 
avoided  the  worst  element  of  student  life,  but  allowed 
himself  to  participate  in  amusements  of  a  higher  type, 
even  to  the  neglect  of  his  studies.  He  was  graduated 
in  1779,  though  not  with  high  honors. 

His  grandfather  and  his  uncle  died  before  he  entered 
college,  leaving  to  him  a  fortune.  This  inheritance 
would  have  proved  a  snare  but  for  the  impression  made 
upon  his  heart  by  the  advice  of  his  aunt's  brother,  who 
gave  him  the  money  spoken  of,  accompanied  with  the 
counsel  that  a  portion  of  it  should  be  given  to  the  poor. 
This  excellent  advice  proved  a  God-send  to  him,  leading 
him  to  accept  his  wealth  as  a  trust,  and  to  consider  how 
much  good  he  might  do  with  it.  These  higher  and  nobler 
thoughts  were  uplifting,  so  that  lower  sentiments,  sug- 


186  TURNING  POINTS. 

gested  by  the  wild,  vicious  class  around  him,  did  not 
drag  him  down  to  their  level. 

In  college  he  formed  the  acquaintance  of  William 
Pitt,  who  was  preparing  for  public  life.  In  conse- 
quence, Wilberforce  resolved  to  become  a  public  man 
too;  and  he  was  elected  to  Parliament  by  his  native 
town  in  1780,  when  he  was  twenty-one  years  of  agek 
His  inborn  hostility  to  the  African  slave-trade  found  a 
new  field  of  operation  here,  and  he  soon  developed  into 
one  of  the  ablest  debaters  in  Parliament.  In  1787, 
when  he  was  twenty-eight  years  of  age,  he  was  the 
foremost  champion  of  the  abolition  of  slavery  in  the 
British  Colonies,  and  never  abated  his  labors  to  over- 
throw the  system  of  iniquity  until  declining  health 
forced  his  retirement.  In  1789  he  made  a  speech  of 
such  pathos  and  power  against  the  slave-trade,  that 
Burke  declared  it  was  one  of  the  ablest  and  most 
eloquent  ever  heard  in  the  House  of  Commons. 

He  died  on  the  twenty-ninth  day  of  April,  1833,  when 
the  Act  of  Emancipation  was  on  its  passage  through 
Parliament.  A  short  time  before  he  died  he  exclaimed, 
"  Thank  God  that  I  should  have  lived  to  witness  a  day 
when  England  is  willing  to  give  twenty  millions  ster- 
ling for  the  abolition  of  slavery  ! " 

Directly  after  he  left  college  he  travelled  with  his 
old  teacher,  Mr.  Milner,  who  was  a  devoted  Christian 
man.  Believing  that  a  grand  future  awaited  j'oung 
Wilberforce,  should  he  be  guided  by  religious  principle, 
Milner  was  as  faithful  to  him  as  any  Christian  father 
could  be  to  a  son ;  and  from  that  time  Wilberforce  was 
a  changed  man.  He  interested  himself  in  building  up 
the  church,  promoting  the  cause  of  missions,  and  aid- 


WILLIAM   WILBERFORCE.  187 

ing  to  mitigate  every  form  of  suffering  humanity.  A 
large  part  of  his  income  was  given  away  in  charity. 
He  spoke  and  wrote  often  upon  religious  subjects.  "  He 
published  during  his  life  many  essays  and  pamphlets, 
and  a  volume  of  '  Family  Prayers.'  '; 

The  colonial  minister  said  of  Wilberforce  in  Parlia- 
ment, only  a  few  hours  before  the  hitter's  death :  — 

"It  is  not  without  the  deepest  emotion  I  recollect 
that  there  is  yet  living  one  of  the  earliest,  one  of  the 
most  religious,  one  of  the  most  conscientious,  one  of 
the  most  eloquent,  one  of  the  most  zealous,  friends  of 
this  great  cause,  who  watched  it  in  its  dawn.  Wilber- 
force still  remains  to  see,  I  trust,  the  final  consumma- 
tion of  the  great  and  glorious  work  which  he  was  one 
of  the  first  to  commence,  and  to  exclaim,  '  Lord,  now  let 
thy  servant  depart  in  peace  ! ' ' 

The  announcement  of  his  death  in  the  House  of 
Commons  brought  Buxton  to  his  feet ;  and  he  paid  a 
glowing  tribute  of  respect  and  love  to  the  memory  of 
the  great  statesman,  in  which  he  quoted  the  following 
lines  of  Cowper,  as  singularly  descriptive  of  the  de- 
ceased :  — 

"  A  veteran  warrior  in  the  Christian  field, 
Who  never  saw  the  sword  he  could  not  wield ; 
Who,  when  occasion  justified  its  use, 
Had  wit,  as  bright  as  ready  to  produce ; 
Could  draw  from  records  of  an  earlier  age, 
Or  from  Philosophy's  enlightened  page, 
His  rich  material  —  and  regale  the  ear 
With  strains  it  was  a  luxury  to  hear." 


188  TURNING  POINTS. 


XXIII. 

ELIZABETH   FRY. 

THE    CONVERSION    THAT    CONSECRATED    HER    TO 
PHILANTHROPY. 

MANY  rich  men  are  philanthropists.  It  is  not  often, 
however,  that  a  daughter  reared  in  affluence,  and  ac- 
customed to  luxury,  devotes  her  life  to  self-sacrificing 
work  for  criminals,  and  other  classes  of  suffering  hu- 
manity. But  this  was  true  of  Elizabeth  Fry,  who  was 
born  in  Norwich,  England,  May  21,  1780.  Her  father 
was  John  Gurney,  a  Quaker  of  large  influence  and  high 
character.  He  was  a  merchant  who  shared  the  confi- 
dence of  patrons,  and  whose  wealth  was  ample  for  the 
most  fashionable  style  of  living.  Mrs.  Gurney  was 
noted  for  her  fine'  personal  appearance,  practical  wis- 
dom, kind  and  sympathetic  nature,  and  devout  Christian 
spirit.  She  was  a  model  mother,  whose  presence  in 
the  neighborhood  was  a  benediction.  There  were  seven 
daughters  and  a  son  in  the  family,  and  Elizabeth  was 
the  third  child.  Their  home  was  known  as  Earlham 
Hall. 

Elizabeth  was  a  rather  delicate,  nervous  child,  not 
quite  understood  by  her  father,  whose  rigid  discipline 
annoyed  instead  of  benefiting  her  sensitive  nature.  He 
allowed  his  children  many  privileges  that  stricter  Quakers 


ELIZABETH  FRY.  189 

condemned ;  but  he  had  his  own  views  about  family  gov- 
ernment, and  believed  in  eradicating  childish  notions  in- 
stead of  favoring  them.  For  instance,  Elizabeth  was  very 
timid,  and  afraid  of  the  dark ;  and  her  father  regarded 
it  as  a  mere  freak  of  childhood,  and  denied  her  reqiiest 
for  a  light.  He  thought  that  was  the  way  to  eradicate 
fear,  and  make  her  resolute  and  courageous.  But  the 
daughter  claimed,  in  womanhood,  that  this  treatment 
aggravated  her  nervousness,  and,  in  consequence,  she 
adopted  the  opposite  course  with  her  own  children. 

Elizabeth  enjoyed  excellent  school  advantages,  and 
was  a  good  scholar,  undertaking  her  tasks  in  a  cheerful 
spirit,  and  performing  them  with  a  good  degree  of  suc- 
cess. She  was  thoughtful,  and  appreciated  education. 
Her  teachers  credited  her  with  marked  intellectual  gifts, 
a  refined  and  gentle  nature,  and  the  best  social  qualities. 
Hence  her  popularity  with  both  teachers  and  scholars. 
She  was  early  taught  to  keep  a  diary,  which  proved  of 
great  value  to  her,  indoors  and  out. 

The  family  did  not  conform  to  the  custom  of  Quakers 
in  dress,  amusements,  and  other  things,  or,  at  least,  the 
daughters  did  not.  Perhaps  they  were  allowed  to  con- 
form to  the  customs  that  prevailed  in  Norwich  when  the 
parents  did  not.  For  example,  Elizabeth  wore  a  scar- 
let riding-dress  instead  of  a  gray  one,  and  attended 
plays  and  dancing-parties.  Perhaps  her  parents  thought, 
"  When  they  are  with  the  Romans  they  must  do  as  the 
Romans  do."  At  any  rate,  that  is  what  these  Quaker 
girls  did ;  Elizabeth  enjoying  the  round  of  social  pleas- 
ures with  a  keen  relish. 

Thus  our  heroine  grew  up  to  seventeen  years  of  age, 
a  winsome  schoolgirl,  talented,  vivacious,  and  aspiring. 


190  TURNING  POINTS. 

There  was  very  little  of  the  Quakeress  about  her ;  a  gay, 
brilliant,  graceful,  fun-loving  girl  in  her  teens..  Evi- 
dently Elizabeth  herself  thought  somewhat  of  her  mode 
of  life,  as  being  at  variance  with  her  parents'  opinions ; 
for  she  wrote  in  her  diary,  "  I  must  beware  of  being 
a  flirt.  It  is  an  abominable  character.  I  hope  I  shall 
never  be  one,  and  yet  I  am  one  now  a  little.  I  think  I 
am  by  degrees  losing  many  excellent  qualities.  I  lay  it 
to  my  great  love  of  gayety  and  the  world.  I  am  now 
seventeen,  and  if  some  kind  and  great  circumstance 
does  not  happen  to  me,  I  shall  have  my  talents  de- 
voured by  moth  and  rust.  They  will  lose  their  bright- 
ness, and  one  day  they  will  prove  a  curse  instead  of  a 
blessing." 

Providence  was  preparing  her  for  a  change.  She  was 
on  the  eve  of  a  new  and  better  life  now.  A  Quaker 
preacher  from  the  United  States,  William  Savery, 
visited  Norwich,  and  preached.  He  was  making  a  tour 
of  England,  preaching  and  looking  after  the  interests 
of  his  sect.  Elizabeth,  with  all  her  sisters,  accompanied 
her  father  to  hear  the  American  preacher.  The  girls 
were  arrayed  in  the  fashionable  costumes  of  Norwich's 
best  society,  and  the  same  was  true  of  other  young  peo- 
ple belonging  to  Quaker  families.  The  preacher  had 
observed  similar  departure  from  Quaker  customs  in  other 
places,  and  he  was  very  much  exercised  over  this  unfor- 
tunate condition  of  things.  He  spoke  of  it  in  his  ser- 
nion ;  and  lamented  that  so  much  worldliuess  had  taken 
possession  of  the  Friends  in  England.  He  went  on, 
waxing  more  and  more  eloquent  and  pointed  in  his 
remarks,  delivering  a  pungent  and  touching  gospel  mes- 
sage to  the  attentive  listeners.  Elizabeth  was  moved  to 


ELIZABETH  FRY.  191 

tears,  and  she  wept  during  most  of  the  service,  and  all 
the  way  home.  Her  father  was  glad  to  witness  her  con- 
trition, and  invited  Mr.  Savery  to  breakfast  at  Earlham 
Hall  the  next  morning.  It  was  then  that  she  had  an 
interview  with  the  preacher,  which  resulted  in  her  con- 
version and  consecration  to  Christ.  She  turned  into  the 
path  of  a  Christian  life. 

It  should  be  said  here  that  Elizabeth  had  mingled 
somewhat  with  sceptical  associates,  and  had  been  ex- 
posed even  to  deistical  influences.  These  had  not  ex- 
erted a  controlling  influence  over  her  life,  and  yet  her 
sorrow  was  more  poignant  because  she  did  not  repel 
them  with  decision.  Forty-eight  years  thereafter  she 
wrote,  "  Since  my  heart  was  touched,  at  the  age  of 
seventeen,  I  believe  I  never  have  awakened  from  sleep, 
in  sickness  or  in  health,  by  day  or  by  night,  without  my 
first  waking  thought  being  how  best  I  might  serve  my 
Lord." 

One  of  Elizabeth's  first  thoughts  on  beginning  her 
new  life  was  of  her  deceased  mother.  She  died  when 
Elizabeth  was  twelve  years  old.  At  sixty  years  of  age 
Mrs.  Fry  wrote  of  her,  "My  mother  was  most  dear  to 
me ;  and  the  walks  she  took  with  me  in  the  old-fashioned 
garden  are  as  fresh  with  me  as  if  only  just  passed ;  and 
her  telling  me  about  Adam  and  Eve  being  driven  out  of 
Paradise.  I  thought  it  must  be  just  like  our  garden." 
The  recollection  of  her  mother's  godly  walk  was  of 
great  service  to  her  after  her  conversion.  Then  mater- 
nal example  and  influence  seemed  to  have  more  power 
over  her  than  when  she  enjoyed  its  living  presence. 

Some  time  after  Elizabeth  entered  upon  a  Christian 
life,  a  visit  to  friends  in  London  was  arranged.  Here 


192  TUSyiXG   POINTS. 


she  was  introduced  again  into  gay  society,  with  all  the 
amusements  that  such  a  life  in  the  city  means.  That 
these  things  now  afforded  her  no  real  enjoyment  is 
evident  from  a  paragraph  she  wrote  in  her  diary  on 
her  return,  "  I  went  to  Drury  Lane  in  the  evening.  I 
must  own  that  I  was  extremely  disappointed.  To  be 
sure,  the  house  is  grand  and  dazzling,  but  I  had  no  other 
feeling  while  there  than  wishing  it  over.  ...  I  wholly 
gave  up  on  my  own  ground  attending  all  places  of  public 
amusement.  I  saw  they  tended  to  promote  evil  ;  there- 
fore, if  I  could  attend  them  without  being  hurt  myself, 
I  felt  in  entering  them  I  lent  my  aid  to  promote  that 
which  I  was  sure  from  what  I  saw  hurt  others." 

At  eighteen  she  adopted  the  following  excellent  rules 
for  her  daily  life  :  "  First,  Never  lose  any  time.  I  do 
not  think  that  lost  which  is  spent  in  recreation  some 
time  every  day  ;  but  always  be  employed.  Second, 
Never  err  the  least  in  truth.  Third,  Never  say  an  ill 
thing  of  a  person  when  I  can  say  a  good  thing  of  him  ; 
not  only  speak  charitably,  but  feel  so.  Fourth,  Never 
be  irritable  or  unkind  to  anybody.  Fifth,  Never  indulge 
myself  in  luxuries  that  are  not  necessary.  Sixth,  Do 
all  things  with  consideration,  and  when  my  path  to  act 
is  most  difficult,  put  confidence  in  that  Power  alone 
which  is  able  to  assist  me,  and  exert  my  own  powers 
as  far  as  they  go." 

At  once  Elizabeth  began  to  imitate  her  Master,  and 
visit  the  sick,  afflicted,  and  poor.  She  interested  her- 
self in  poor  children,  and  finally  opened  a  school  for 
them.  She  began  with  one  pupil,  but  soon  the  number 
increased  to  seventy.  Her  gentle,  prepossessing  ap- 
pearance drew  them  closely  to  her,  and  her  success  was 


ELIZABETH  FEY.  193 

somewhat  remarkable.  She  was  very  happy  in  this 
benevolent  work,  and  preferred  it  to  all  the  dances  and 
theatres  she  ever  attended. 

At  twenty  years  of  age  she  married  a  rich  merchant 
of  London,  Joseph  Fry,  whose  family  belonged  to  the 
Society  of  Friends.  He  was  in  full  sympathy  with  her 
sentiments  respecting  charity  and  Christian  work  in 
general ;  and  his  wealth  made  it  possible  for  her  to 
minister  to  the  poor  and  suffering.  Notwithstanding 
her  growing  family,  she  found  time  to  prove  herself  a 
ministering  angel  to  many  a  wretched  home  ;  also,  to  be 
active  in  gospel  work.  When  she  had  been  married 
eleven  years  she  had  seven  children  to  care  for,  the 
eldest  ten ;  and  yet  her  Christian  work  was  so  impor- 
tant that  she  was  made  a  "  minister  "  by  the  Society  of 
Friends.  At  this  time  she  increased  her  charitable 
work,  and  established  headquarters  for  the  more  gen- 
eral assistance  of  the  poor.  Here  were  clothing,  drug, 
and  food  departments.  In  her  tours  among  the  slums 
of  the  city  she  would  take  her  two  eldest  daughters 
with  her,  for  the  purpose  of  teaching  them  to  be  kind 
and  serviceable  to  the  poor  and  suffering.  In  all  her 
public  labors  her  family  was  never  neglected.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  influence  of  her  saintly  character  and 
charitable  labors  upon  them  was  uplifting  and  inspiring. 

She  had  been  married  thirteen  years,  and  had  eight 
children,  when  her  labors  commenced  in  Newgate  Prison, 
London.  The  prison  was  occupied  by  so  many  desperate 
characters,  —  men  and  women  huddled  together  without 
regard  to  sex  or  guilt,  —  that  the  superintendent  was 
unwilling  to  admit  her  at  first.  After  permission  was 
granted,  Mrs.  Fry  was  advised  to  leave  her  watch  and 


194  TURNING  POINTS. 

purse  at  home ;  but  she  took  both  with  her,  and  never 
was  molested  or  received  the  slightest  insult.  Her  in- 
fluence over  the  prisoners  for  good  Avas  witnessed  from 
the  start.  Three  hundred  women,  some  of  them  the 
most  abandoned  characters,  hailed  her  coming  as  that 
of  a  friend.  On  her  second  visit  she  requested  to  be 
left  alone  with  the  women ;  and  many  of  them  wept 
tears  of  joy  as  she  unfolded  her  plans  of  doing  them 
good.  She  organized  a  society  for  the  "  Improvement 
of  the  Female  Prisoners  of  Newgate,"  "  To  provide  for 
the  clothing,  the  instruction,  and  the  employment  of  the 
women;  to  introduce  them  to  a  knowledge  of  the  holy 
Scriptures ;  and  to  form  in  them,  as  much  as  possible, 
those  habits  of  order,  sobriety,  and  industry,  which  may 
render  them  docile  and  peaceable  while  in  prison,  and 
respectable  when  they  leave  it." 

When  Mrs.  Fry  proposed  that  the  female  prisoners  be 
set  to  work  making  articles  of  apparel,  paying  them  a 
small  amount  for  their  own  use,  the  authorities  laughed 
in  derision  at  the  proposition.  Nevertheless  the  plan 
was  tried,  and  the  prisoners  made  twenty  thousand  arti- 
cles of  wearing  apparel  in  ten  months.  Such  a  marvel- 
lous change  was  wrought  in  the  prison  in  a  brief  period, 
that  thousands  of  people,  from  the  Queen  down  to  peas- 
ants, came  to  behold  the  transformation.  News  of  the 
great  work  spread  over  Great  Britain,  and  the  whole 
continent  of  Europe.  Letters  from  crowned  heads,  as 
well  as  from  philanthropic  people  in  the  common  walks 
of  life,  began  to  pour  in,  inviting  her  to  visit  the  prisons 
of  other  lands ;  and  subsequently  she  visited  Scotland, 
France,  Germany,  Denmark,  and  other  countries,  upon 
this  errand  of  mercy,  everywhere  hailed  as  an  angel  of 


ELIZABETH  FEY.  195 

peace  and  good  will  to  men.  The  prisons  of  Europe 
were  reformed  through  her  labors ;  and  the  laws  to 
punish  criminals  were  greatly  modified  in  nearly  all 
European  countries.  Indeed,  the  reformation  spread 
throughout  the  world.  In  the  midst  of  the  world's 
loudest  applause  this  beautiful  woman  wrote,  "I  am 
ready  to  say  in  the  fulness  o'f  my  heart,  surely,  l  it  is 
the  Lord's  doings,  and  marvellous  in  our  eyes.'  .  .  . 
May  the  praise  and  glory  of  the  whole  be  entirely  given 
where  it  is  due  by  us,  and  by  all,  in  deep  humiliation 
and  prostration  of  spirit." 

Mrs.  Fry  died  Oct.  13,  1845.  As  she  approached  the 
end  she  said,  "I  believe  this  is  not  death;  but  it  is  as 
passing  through  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death,  and 
perhaps  with  more  suffering,  from  more  sensitiveness ; 
but  the  Rock  is  here.  The  distress  is  awful ;  but  He  has 
been  with  me."  Her  last  words  were,  after  having 
listened  to  a  few  passages  from  Isaiah,  read  by  her 
daughter,  "  Oh,  my  dear  Lord,  help  and  keep  thy 
servant ! " 


196  TURNISG  POINTS. 


XXIV. 

GEORGE  WASHINGTON. 

THE  MOTHER'S  TEARS  THAT  MADE  HIM  "  FATHER  OF 
HIS  COUNTRY." 

JOHN  WASHINGTON  was  the  founder  of  the  "Washing- 
ton family  in  America,  and  George  Washington  was  his 
great-grandson,  born  Feb.  22, 1732,  on  Pope's  Creek,  Va., 
about  one-half  mile  from  the  Potomac.  Augustine  Wash- 
ington was  his  father.  A  slab  now  marks  the  spot  on 
which  stood  the  house  where  George  was  born,  bearing 
this  inscription,  "  HERE  THE  HTH  OF  FEBRUARY,  1732 
(Oi,D  STYLE)  GEORGE  WASHINGTON  WAS  BORN."  His 
mother  was  a  woman  of  strong  character,  of  whom 
George  Washington  Parke  Custis,  wrote :  — 

"  The  mother  held  in  reserve  an  authority  which  never 
departed  from  her,  not  even  when  her  son  had  become 
the  most  illustrious  of  men.  It  seemed  to  say,  'I  am 
your  mother,  the  being  who  gave  you  life,  the  guide  who 
directed  your  steps  when  they  needed  the  guidance  of 
age  and  wisdom,  the  parental  affection  which  claimed 
your  love,  the  parental  authority  which  commanded  your 
obedience :  whatever  may  be  your  success,  whatever 
your  renown,  next  to  your  God,  you  owe  them  most  to 
me.'  Nor  did  the  chief  dissent  from  these  truths ;  but 
to  the  last  moments  of  the  life  of  his  venerable  parent, 


GEORGE   WASHINGTON. 


GEOKGE  WASHINGTON.  197 

he  yielded  to  her  will  the  most  dutiful  and  implicit 
obedience,  and  felt  for  her  person  and  character  the 
most  holy  reverence  and  attachment." 

Historians  and  poets,  statesmen  and  orators,  have 
ever  accorded  to  the  mother  of  .Washington  a  signal 
influence  in  determining  his  character  and  career.  So 
universal  is  this  sentiment,  that  the  American  people 
consider  that  the  noblest  tribute  to  her  memory  is  the 
inscription  upon  her  monument,  "MARY,  THE  MOTHER 
OF  WASHINGTON." 

George  was  a  very  manly  boy.  John  Fitzhugh  wrote 
of  him,  "He  was  born  a  man."  He  began  to  attend 
school  at  five  years  of  age,  though  it  was  a  poor  one, 
taught  by  one  Hobby,  who  lived  in  a  tenement  belong- 
ing to  George's  father.  He  served  as  parish  sexton 
and  schoolmaster,  though  much  better  qualified  for  the 
former  than  the  latter  position.  He  was  a  Christian 
man  of  limited  knowledge,  knowing  how  to  dig  graves 
better  than  he  knew  how  to  instruct  the  young.  He 
could  "  read,  write,  and  cipher "  passably  well,  but 
beyond  that  he  made  no  pretensions.  George  was  his 
best  and  brightest  pupil.  A  biographer  says  of  him 
in  Mr.  Hobby's  school,  "The  rapid  progress  George 
made  in  his  studies  was  owing  not  so  much  to  his 
uncommon  aptitude  at  learning,  as  to  the  diligence  and 
industry  with  which  he  applied  himself  to  them.  So 
well  did  he  apply  himself,  and  so  attentive  was  he  to 
everything  taught  him,  that  by  the  time  he  was  ten 
years  old  he  had  learned  all  that  the  good  old  grave- 
digger  knew  himself.  But  what  Hobby  could  not  teach 
him  at  school,  George  learned  at  home  of  his  father 
and  mother,  who  were  well  educated  for  those  days." 


198  TURNING  POINTS. 

George  did  his  school-work  well.  His  teacher  would 
hold  up  his  writing-book  before  the  pupils,  and  say, 
"Not  one  blot,  no  finger-marks,  everything  neat  and 
clean."  Often,  also,  he  directed  the  attention  of  schol- 
ars to  the  perfect  lessons  of  George,  to  awaken  emu- 
lation. 

When  George  was  eight  years  old,  his  brother  Lau- 
rence, who  was  educated  in  England,  became  captain  in 
a  regiment  destined  to  a  campaign  in  the  West  Indies. 
He  was  twenty-two  years  of  age,  and  he  took  part  in 
recruiting  the  regiment.  Soldiers  parading  the  streets, 
and  the  sound  of  martial  music,  made  lively  times  for 
George,  who  waxed  patriotic,  and  introduced  military 
parades  and  sham  fights  among  his  schoolmates.  For 
months  these  warlike  demonstrations  were  practised  by 
the  pupils,  George  always  acting  as  commander-in-chief. 
Nor  did  his  military  prowess  abate  when  his  brother 
returned,  after  an  absence  of  two  years,  but  rather 
increased. 

At  ten  years  of  age  George  was  sent  to  Mr.  Williams's 
School  at  Bridges'  Creek,  one  of  the  best  schools  in 
Virginia  at  the  time.  Here  he  added  bookkeeping  and 
surveying  to  branches  already  pursued.  He  gave  atten- 
tion, also,  to  drawing  and  sketching.  His  industry  and 
application  won  the  highest  praise  of  his  teacher.  He 
advanced,  too,  in  manliness,  and  Avas  implicitly  trusted 
as  a  truthful,  reliable,  and  model  boy.  His  scholarship 
was  high,  and  his  popularity  in  school  without  limita- 
tion. He  was  also  an  athlete.  He  could  run  faster, 
jump  higher,  lift  more,  and  throw  a  stone  farther,  than 
any  other  pupil.  He  excelled,  also,  as  a  wrestler. 

In  this  school  he  adopted  his  "  Book  of  Forms,"  an 


GEOttGE  WASHINGTON.  199 

original  idea  with  him;  a  home-made  blank-book,  into 
which  he  copied  forms  of  receipts,  bills  of  exchange, 
notes  of  hand,  dee'ds,  wills,  land-warrants,  bonds,  and 
other  business  forms,  that  might  be  useful  to  him  in 
manhood.  Into  another  blank-book  he  copied  arith- 
metical problems  with  his  accustomed  neatness  and 
thoroughness.  Still  another  blank-book  was  devoted 
to  art,  in  which  his  work  in  sketching  and  drawing  was 
preserved,  —  animals,  buildings,  trees,  and  portraits  of 
his  schoolmates.  Also  a  book  containing  many  extracts 
in  poetry  and  prose,  which  particularly  interested  him 
at  the  time,  was  a  model  of  painstaking  labor.  All 
these  manuscript  books  have  been  carefully  preserved, 
and  can  be  seen  now  at  Mount  Vernon. 

There  is  yet  another  manuscript  volume  of  more  im- 
portance than  either  of  those  named,  preserved  among 
the  Washington  relics.  It  is  called,  "  RULES  OF  BE- 
HAVIOR IN  COMPANY  AND  CONVERSATION."  It  contains 
one  hundred  and  ten  rules,  collected,  evidently,  from  the 
reading  of  his  boyhood  and  youth,  and  copied  into  this 
book.  The  following  are  sample  rules  :  — 

"  Associate  yourself  with  men  of  good  quality,  if  you 
esteem  your  reputation  ;  for  it  is  better  to  be  alone  than 
in  bad  company." 

"  Wherein  you  reprove  another,  be  unblamable  your- 
self;  for  example  is  better  than  precept." 

"  Labor  to  keep  in  your  heart  that  little  spark  of 
celestial  fire,  called  conscience." 

"  Let  your  recreations  be  manful,  not  sinful." 

Without  quoting  more  of  the  "  rules,"  it  may  be  said 
that  wiser  and  better  directions  for  character-building 
cannot  be  found.  That  a  boy  of  thirteen  years  should 


200  TURNING  POINTS. 

compile  such  a  code  of  manners  and  morals,  shows  un- 
mistakably the  bent  of  his  mind,  and  his  noble  aim. 

His  schooldays  closed  a  month  before  his  sixteenth 
birthday.  His  vacations,  and  such  other  time  as  he 
could  command,  were  spent  with  Laurence  at  his  home. 
Laurence  was  a  military  officer,  and  his  residence  was 
the  temporary  home  of  other  military  men.  George 
enjoyed  their  company,  and  became  somewhat  fasci- 
nated with  military  life,  for  which  Laurence  thought 
he  was  specially  adapted.  For  this  reason  he  pro- 
posed that  George  should  become  a  midshipman  on  a 
British  man-of-war.  The  proposition  fired  the  soul  of 
our  young  hero,  and  he  besought  his  brother  to  obtain 
the  consent  of  his  mother.  After  much  conversation, 
explanation,  and  pleading,  Laurence  obtained  the  con- 
sent of  his  mother;  and,  soon  after,  a  British  man-of- 
war  moved  up  the  Potomac,  and  cast  anchor  in  full 
view  of  Mount  Vernon.  On  board  this  vessel  a  mid- 
shipman's warrant  was  obtained  for  George,  who  was 
more  elated  over  this  bit  of  fortune  than  over  any 
previous  experience  of  his  life.  What  had  been  a 
sort  of  dream  with  him  had  suddenly  become  reality. 
His  preparation  for  departure  was  soon  made.  His 
trunk  was  packed  and  carried  on  board  the  ship  that 
would  bear  him  far  away  from  his  native  land.  He 
was  arrayed  in  the  gay  uniform  of  a  midshipman,  and 
nothing  remained  but  to  bid  his  mother  and  other  rela- 
tives farewell. 

But  when  he  stood  before  his  mother  in  his  naval 
costume,  so  tall  and  robust  in  figure,  so  handsome  and 
graceful,  so  noble  in  appearance,  the  thought  that  she 
might  never  behold  him  again  completely  overcame  her 


GEOEGE   WASHINGTON.  201 

usual  firmness  and  self-control,  and  she  burst  into  tears. 
"  I  cannot  consent  to  let  you  go !  "  she  exclaimed ;  "  it 
will  break  my  heart,  George."  The  son  was  taken  by 
surprise,  and  well-nigh  unmanned  at  the  sight  of  his 
mother  in  tears.  "But  how  can  I  refuse  to  go  now 
that  I  have  enlisted,  and  my  trunk  is  on  board  ?  "  he 
said.  "  Order  your  trunk  ashore,  and  return  your  uni- 
form, my  son,  if  you  do  not  wish  to  crush  your  mother's 
heart,"  nervously  and  feelingly  answered  Mrs.  Washing- 
ton. "  I  cannot  bear  the  thought." 

It  was  a  trying  ordeal  for  George;  a  sudden  and 
sharp  turn  to  make  in  his  life,  if  he  yielded  to  her 
request.  But  fortunately  for  him  and  the  American 
republic,  he  made  it  in  the  manliness  of  his  young 
soul.  "  Mother,  I  can  never  go  and  cause  you  so 
much  grief.  I  will  stay  at  home,"  he  answered.  Then 
it  was  that  "  Washington,  the  Father  of  his  Country," 
was  assured,  and  the  Declaration  of  American  Inde- 
pendence promised  !  We  are  not  competent  to  say 
exactly  what  might  have  been  the  result  to  this  coun- 
try had  George  persisted  to  be  a  midshipman  in  the 
service  of  the  king;  but  we  are  certainly  justified  in 
saying  there  would  have  been  no  Brandy  wine  and  Valley 
Forge,  no  Monmouth  and  Yorktown.  The  mother's 
tears  blasted  the  hopes  of  the  delighted  midshipman, 
but  made  it  possible  for  freedom  to  rear  its  temple  on 
these  shores. 

George  did  not  sulk  nor  repine  over  his  disappoint- 
ment ;  but  he  went  to  work  for  Lord  Fairfax  in  survey- 
ing his  vast  estates.  He  had  become  so  proficient  with 
the  compass  and  chain  while  a  pupil  in  Mr.  Williams's 
school,  that  he  surveyed  the  farms  near  the  schoolhouse 


202  TURNING  POINTS. 

for  his  own  benefit  and  amusement;  and  now,  though 
not  seventeen  years  of  age,  he  was  placed  in  charge  of 
the  greatest  surveying  expedition  of  that  day.  He  did 
his  work  so  efficiently,  was  so  accurate  and  excellent  in 
his  reports,  that  the  authorities  of  Virginia  appointed 
him  public  surveyor  while  he  was  in  his  teens.  It 
was  a  grand  school  for  him  One  of  his  biographers 
says,  "  The  business  of  practical  surveying  undoubtedly 
formed  a  very  important  part  of  Washington's  prepa- 
ration for  the  office  of  military  commander.  It  not 
only  hardened  and  invigorated  the  already  robust  frame, 
but  it  educated  his  eye,  and  accustomed  him  to  judge 
respecting  distances  and  advantages  of  position.  By 
making  him  an  able  civil  engineer,  it  laid  the  founda- 
tion of  his  future  eminence  in  a  military  capacity." 

George,  at  nineteen  years  of  age,  was  appointed  ad- 
jutant-general, with  the  rank  of  major,  in  the  place  of 
his  brother  Laurence,  who  resigned  on  account  of  im- 
paired health.  He  had  charge  of  the  militia  of  the 
.district,  to  organize  and  drill  them,  inspect  their  arms 
and  accoutrements,  together  with  other  duties  that  would 
absorb  his  time.  At  twenty-one  years  of  age  he  was 
appointed  commissioner  to  the  French,  who  had  en- 
croached upon  the  domains  of  the  Virginia  colonists 
by  erecting  forts,  and  making  settlements  on  the  Ohio 
River.  It  was  not  only  an  important  commission,  but 
a  perilous  one.  The  governor  told  him  that  it  might 
cost  him  his  life.  His  mission  was  accomplished  with 
so  much  ability  and  promptness,  and  his  report  of  the 
same  was  a  document  of  so  rare  value,  that  the  gover- 
nor proposed  to  print  it  at  once  for  general  distribution. 
The  proposition  shocked  Washington's  modesty,  and  he 


GEOEGE   WASHINGTON.  203 

objected  to  giving  the  report  such  publicity.  But  the 
governor  replied,  "  You  need  not  give  yourself  any  un- 
easiness, man ;  for  your  journal  is  worthy  of  the  perusal 
of  the  King  of  Great  Britain,  and  I  intend  to  present 
him  with  a  copy." 

Washington's  report  caused  great  excitement  in  Great 
Britain,  as  well  as  among  the  colonists.  The  king 
ordered  the  colonies  to  raise  troops  and  drive  the  French 
out  of  the  land.  The  governor  of  Virginia  was  directed 
to  raise  a  force,  and  Washington  was  appointed  recruit- 
ing officer,  with  headquarters  at  Alexandria.  When  the 
recruiting  was  done,  the  command  of  the  whole  force 
was  given  to  him ;  and  his  first  battle  was  with  the 
French  on  the  frontier,  in  which  he  was  victorious. 
He  was  then  twenty-two  years  of  age.  From  that  time 
he  was  deeply  concerned  for  the  welfare  of  the  colonies, 
and  followed  military  life  until  he  was  married  at 
twenty-seven,  when  he  retired  from  public  service. 

His  retirement,  however,  was  not  to  continue ;  for 
public  matters  were  hastening  to  a  crisis,  as  the  colo- 
nists felt  more  and  more  the  oppression  of  the  British 
yoke.  Scenes  that  preceded  the  Declaration  of  Inde- 
pendence called  him  from  his  peaceful  home  at  Mount 
Vernon  into  the  field. 

We  need  not  rehearse  his  deeds  in  the  long  and  san- 
guinary struggle  for  independence.  These  are  known 
everywhere ;  and  for  them  Washington-  is  honored  in 
every  civilized  country.  The  surrender  of  Cornwallis 
at  Yorktown  proved  to  be  the  end  of  the  war.  On 
disbanding  his  army  Washington  returned  his  commis- 
sion to  Congress,  after  eight  years  of  uninterrupted, 
glorious  service,  He  wrote  to  a  friend,  "  The  hand  of 


204  TURNING  POINTS. 

Providence  has  been  so  conspicuous  in  all  this,  that  he 
must  be  worse  than  an  infidel  that  lacks  faith,  and  more 
than  wicked  that  has  not  gratitude  enough  to  acknowl- 
edge his  obligations." 

Washington  died  at  Mount  Vernon,  Dec.  14,  1799. 
The  Senate  of  the  United  States  immediately  sent  a 
pathetic  communication  to  President  Adams,  in  which 
they  said,  — 

"  On  this  occasion  it  is  manly  to  weep.  To  lose  such 
a  man  at  such  a  crisis  is  no  common  calamity  to  the 
world.  Our  country  mourns  a  father.  The  Almighty 
Disposer  of  human  events  has  taken  from  us  our  great- 
est benefactor  and  ornament.  It  becomes  us  to  submit 
with  reverence  to  him  who  '  maketh  darkness  his  pavil- 
ion.' Thanks  to  God,  his  glory  is  consummated.  Wash- 
ington yet  lives  on  earth  in  his  spotless  example ;  his 
spirit  is  in  heaven.  Let  his  country  consecrate  the 
memory  of  the  heroic  general,  the  patriotic  statesman, 
and  the  virtuous  sage.  Let  them  teach  their  children 
never  to  forget  that  the  fruits  of  his  labors  and  his 
example  are  their  inheritance." 


ALEXANDER    WILSON.  205 


XXV. 

ALEXANDER  WILSON. 

THE    PRISON    EXPERIENCE    THAT    MADE    THE    WEAVER 
AN    ORNITHOLOGIST. 

ALEXANDER  WILSON  was  born  in  the  Seedhills  of 
Paisley,  Scotland,  July  6,  1776.  His  father  was  a 
weaver,  once  in  comfortable  circumstances,  but  poor 
and  shiftless  when  Alexander  was  born.  His  mother 
was  a  bright,  Christian  woman,  who  planned  to  make 
a  minister  of  her  son,  and  ho  doubt  would  have  ac- 
complished her  purpose,  had  not  a  fatal  sickness  carried 
her  off  suddenly. 

Although  Alexander  was  intelligent  and  promising, 
the  death  of  his  mother  dashed  all  his  hopes  of  entering 
the  service  of  the  church.  His  father  was  too  poor 
and  commonplace  to  assist  him  to  anything  that  was 
noble ;  so  he  was  apprenticed  to  a  weaver  when  he  was 
thirteen  years  of  age,  and  served  him  faithfully  three 
years,  becoming  quite  an  expert  in  the  art  of  weaving. 
The  next  four  years  he  was  employed  as  a  journeyman 
weaver  in  Paisley  and  Lochwinnoch.  It  was  during 
these  years  that  Alexander  discovered  that  he  possessed 
a  talent  for  writing  poetry;  and  he  coaxed  his  muse 
into  efforts  of  that  kind,  until  he  won  some  notoriety 
in  his  native  town, 


206  TUENING  POINTS. 

In  his  twentieth  year,  however,  he  changed  his  occu- 
pation from  weaver  to  pedler,  travelling  among  the 
farmers  and  peasants  on  foot,  with  such  wares  as  they 
used  in  their  families.  Before  starting  out  he  conceived 
the  idea  of  getting  subscribers  also  for  a  small  volume 
of  his  own  poems  ;  and  he  had  a  prospectus  printed 
with  that  end  in  view.  He  was  not  successful  as  a 
pedler,  although  his  profits  were  sufficient  to  defray 
his  expenses.  He  obtained  quite  a  list  of  subscribers 
for  his  proposed  volume  of  poems.  On  his  return  he 
arranged  with  a  bookseller  for  the  publication  of  his 
poems,  including,  also,  the  journal  of  his  wanderings, 
that  he  had  faithfully  kept. 

When  the  book  was  ready  he  started  on  a  second 
peddling  expedition,  in  order  to  deliver  it  to  subscribers. 
In  his  journal  at  the  time  he  described  his  setting  out 
in  a  manner  that  shows  he  possessed  some  talent  for 
writing  prose  as  well  as  poetry.  It  was  as  follows  :  — 

"Having  furnished  my  budget  with  what  necessary 
articles  might  be  required,  equipped  with  a  short  oaken 
plant,  I  yielded  my  shoulders  to  the  load,  and  by  day- 
break left  the  confines  of  our  ancient  metropolis.  The 
morning  was  mild,  clear,  and  inviting.  A  gentle  shower, 
which  had  fallen  amid  the  stillness  of  night,  besprinkled 
the  fields  and  adjoining  meadows,  exposing  them  to  the 
eye  clad  with  brightest  green,  and  glittering  with  un- 
numbered globes  of  dew.  Nature  seemed  to  smile  on 
my  intended  expedition  ;  I  hailed  the  happy  omen,  and 
with  a  heart  light  as  the  lark  that  hovered  over  my 
head,  I  passed  the  foot  of  Salisbury  Kocks,  and,  direct- 
ing my  course  towards  Dalkeith,  launched  among  the 
first  farms  and  cottages  that  offered," 


ALEXANDER    WILSON.  207 

This  trip  proved  very  discouraging  to  the  pedler  and 
would-be-poet.  A  majority  of  those  who  had  subscribed 
for  the  poems  would  not  take  them,  chiefly  because  they 
had  no  money  to  pay  for  them.  He  returned  from  this 
expedition  poorer  than  ever,  and  was  forced  to  return 
to  his  shuttles  or  starve.  After  a  few  months'  labor  in 
the  mill,  he  heard  that  there  was  to  be  a  discussion 
in  Edinburgh  on  this  question,  "  Whether  have'  the  ex- 
ertions of  Allan  Eamsay  or  Robert  Ferguson  done  more 
honor  to  Scottish  poetry  ?  "  The  discussion  would  take 
place  in  a  debating-society  called  the  Forum.  Young 
Wilson  determined  to  be  there,  and  distinguish  himself 
as  debater  and  poet ;  and  he  set  about  writing  a  poem 
in  defence  of  Ferguson.  At  the  appointed  time  he  was 
in  Edinburgh,  and  engaged  in  the  debate,  and  read  his 
poem  entitled,  "The  Laurel  Disputed."  The  poem  was 
received  with  applause,  and  won  him  some  notoriety ; 
in  consequence  of  which  he  remained  in  that  city  until 
he  had  written  two  other  poems,  "Bab  and  Ringam," 
and  "The  Loss  of  the  Pack,"  and  recited  them  before 
the  Forum.  These  were  received  with  still  greater 
favor,  and  he  returned  home  quite  elated  over  his 
success. 

The  result  of  his  Edinburgh  episode  was  the.  pub- 
lishing of  a  second  edition  of  his  poems,  revised  and 
enlarged,  and  another  peddling  escapade  among  the 
peasants  and  farmers.  This  last  enterprise  proved 
worse  than  the  first,  and  he  returned  to  his  shuttles 
again  rather  than  perish  by  starvation.  In  1792,  how- 
ever, he  published  a  poem,  "  Matty  and  Meg,"  which 
many  ascribed  to  Burns,  until  Wilson  publicly  claimed 
the  authorship. 


208  TURNING  POINTS. 

He  was  now  twenty-seven  years  old,  such  a  young 
man  as  would  pass  in  our  country  to-day  for  a  first- 
class  crank.  Talented  and  persistent  in  a  good  degree, 
yet  so  eccentric,  conceited,  and  visionary  as  to  be  re- 
garded with  disfavor  by  many.  There  was  no  fore- 
shadowing of  the  naturalist  as  yet,  although  he  possessed 
a  certain  love  of  nature  that  cropped  out  occasionally. 
But  he  was  on  the  eve  of  a  change.  There  was  trouble 
between  the  manufacturers  and  weavers  of  Paisley ;  and 
Wilson  espoused  the  cause  of  the  latter,  and  wrote  a 
satirical  poem,  "  The  Shark ;  or,  Lang  Mills  Detected," 
for  which  he  was  prosecuted,  convicted,  and  sent  to 
prison.  His  term  of  imprisonment  was  short,  only  a 
few  days,  and  at  the  expiration  of  it  he  was  required  to 
burn  his  own  poem  in  front  of  the  jail. 

Wilson  was  greatly  mortified  by  this  unfortunate 
affair,  and  resolved  to  quit  his  native  land,  and  sail 
for  America  as  soon  as  he  could  earn  money  enough  to 
pay  his  fare.  Four  months  he  worked  in  the  mill,  living 
on  twenty-five  cents  a  week  during  the  time  before  the 
requisite  amount  was  realized.  He  arrived  in  New- 
castle, Del.,  July  14,  1794,  in  a  sad  plight.  He  was 
without  money,  occupation,  or  friends,  in  a  strange  land. 
Casting  about  for  employment,  and  inquiring  of  new 
acquaintances  about  work,  he  concluded  to  seek  a  situa- 
tion as  weaver  in  Philadelphia,  which  place  he  entered 
in  a  more  forlorn  condition  than  Benjamin  Franklin  did 
seventy  years  before.  Disappointed  in  several  ventures, 
he  finally  engaged  in  schoolkeeping  near  Philadelphia. 
Realizing  his  unfitness  for  the  occupation,  he  applied 
himself  to  study  heroically  out  of  school,  and  made 
remarkable  progress.  As  teacher  he  became  a  success, 


ALEXANDEB    WILSON.  209 

and  continued  the  employment  several  years,  in  different 
places. 

During  the  first  year  of  his  pedagoging,  he  made  the 
acquaintance  of  a  naturalist  by  the  name  of  Bartram, 
whom  some  people  called  the  American  Linnaeus.  His 
residence  was  near  Wilson's  schoolhouse.  Bartram  drew 
Wilson  into  the  studies  of  nature.  Unconsciously  he 
grew  into  an  enthusiast  on  the  subject.  Birds  particu- 
larly interested  him ;  and  out  of  school  he  scoured  field 
and  forest,  without  intending  to  become  a  renowned  orni- 
thologist. He  was  a  weaver  by  trade  ;  he  wanted  to  be 
a  poet;  but  he  was  best  qualified  for  an  ornithologist, 
and  came  to  America  to  find  it  out.  The  great  blunder 
he  made  in  lashing  the  Paisley  manufacturers  with 
satire  was  the  last  straw  that  broke  the  camel's  back, 
and  sent  him  to  the  New  World  for  relief.  It  was  an 
odd  way  of  making  a  great  man  out  of  a  small  one, 
because  it  was  not  a  human  way ;  and  yet  it  was  so 
natural  and  providential  that  we  cease  to  wonder  at  it. 
It  was  a  turning-point  which  shows  God's  choice  so 
much  more  than  it  does  man's,  that  we  bow  in  reverence 
to  the  ordering. 

Before  he  relinquished  the  profession  of  teacher,  he 
had  made  great  progress  in  ornithology,  and  was  known 
among  the  people  whom  he  served  as  an  enthusiast  upon 
the  subject.  He  wrote  to  his  friend  Bartram  as  fol- 
lows :  — 

"I  sometimes  smile  to  think  that  while  others  are 
immersed  in  deep  schemes  of  speculation  and  aggran- 
dizement, in  building  towns  and  purchasing  plantations, 
I  am  entranced  over  the  plumage  of  a  lark,  or  gazing, 
like  a  despairing  lover,  on  the  lineaments  of  an  owl, 


210  TURNING   POINTS. 

While  others  are  hoarding  their  bags  of  money,  without 
the  power  of  enjoying  it,  I  am  collecting,  without  injur- 
ing my  conscience  or  wounding  my  peace  of  mind,  those 
beautiful  specimens  of  nature's  works  that  are  forever 
pleasing.  I  have  had  live  crows,  hawks,  and  owls ; 
opossums,  squirrels,  snakes,  lizards,  etc.,  so  that  my 
room  has  sometimes  reminded  me  of  Noah's  ark ;  but 
Noah  had  a  wife  in  one  corner  of  it,  and  in  this  par- 
ticular our  parallel  does  not  altogether  tally.  I  receive 
every  subject  of  natural  history  that  is  brought  to  me  ; 
and  though  they  do  not  march  into  my  ark  from  all 
quarters,  as  they  did  into  that  of  our  great  ancestor, 
yet  I  find  means,  by  the  distribution  of  a  few  fivepenny 
bits,  to  make  them  find  the  way  fast  enough.  A  boy 
not  long  ago  brought  me  a  large  basketful  of  crows.  I 
expect  his  next  load  will  be  bullfrogs,  if  I  don't  soon 
issue  orders  to  the  contrary.  One  of  my  boys  caught  a 
mouse  in  school  a  few  days  ago,  and  directly  marched 
up  to  me  with  his  prisoner.  I  set  about  drawing  it  the 
same  evening,  and  all  the  while  the  pantings  of  its  little 
heart  showed  it  to  be  in  the  most  extreme  agonies  of 
fear.  I  had  intended  to  kill  it,  in  order  to  fix  it  in  the 
claws  of  a  stuffed  owl ;  but  happening  to  spill  a  few 
drops  of  water  near  where  it  was  tied,  it  lapped  it  up 
with  such  eagerness,  and  looked  in  my  face  with  such  an 
eye  of  supplicating  terror,  as  perfectly  overcame  me.  I 
immediately  restored  it  to  life  and  liberty.  The  agonies 
of  a  prisoner  at  the  stake,  while  the  fire  and  instruments 
of  torture  are  preparing,  could  not  be  more  severe  than 
the  suffering  of  that  poor  mouse;  and,  insignificant  as 
the  object  was,  I  felt  at  that  moment  the  sweet  sensa- 
tions that  mercy  leaves  in  the  mind  when  she  triumphs 
over  cruelty." 


ALEXANDER    WILSON.  211 

A  few  years  later,  in  1803,  at  the  age  of  thirty-seven, 
he  resolved  to  make  a  study  of  the  birds  of  America, 
and  relinquished  teaching  for  this  purpose.  In  June  of 
that  year  he  wrote  to  a  friend  in  Scotland :  — 

"Close  application  to  the  duties  of  my  profession, 
which  I  have  followed  since  November,  1795,  has  deeply 
injured  my  constitution ;  the  more  so,  that  rny  rambling 
disposition  was  the  worst  calculated  of  any  one  in  the 
world  for  the  austere  regularity  of  a  teacher's  life.  I 
have  had  many  pursuits  since  I  left  Scotland, — mathe- 
matics, the  German  language,  music,  drawing,  etc.  ;  and 
I  am  about  to  make  a  collection  of  all  our  finest  birds." 

The  story  of  his  hardships,  perils,  self-denials,  and 
persistent  labors  in  exploring  forests,  fields,  mountains, 
valleys,  lakes,  and  rivers,  in  collecting  materials  for  his 
"  American  Ornithology,"  is  stranger  than  fiction.  Ex- 
posed to  all  weathers,  sleeping  011  the  bare  earth  or  on 
the  bottom  of  a  boat,  pelted  by  rain  and  hail,  scorched 
by  a  blazing  sun,  frozen  by  the  piercing  cold,  imperilled 
by  wild  beasts  and  wilder  savages,  walking  hundreds  of 
miles  through  untraversed  woods  and  tangled  swamps, 
he  was  sustained  by  heroic  faith  in  his  mission,  and  its 
results  to  his  race. 

When  the  first  volume  of  his  great  work  was  ready 
for  the  press,  he  had  not  a  dollar  to  invest  in  its  publi- 
cation. Samuel  Bradford  of  Philadelphia  had  secured 
him  to  edit  Rees'  Cyclopaedia,  which  he  was  publish- 
ing; and  Wilson  spoke  to  him  one  day  of  his  pet 
enterprise,  and  at  once  Bradford  indorsed  the  scheine, 
and  agreed  to  publish  the  work.  Here,  again,  the  provi- 
dential features  of  this  career  came  to  the  front. 

In   1813  the   "American   Ornithology"  had  reached 


212  TURNING  POINTS. 

the  seventh  volume  —  a  work  without  a  peer  in  natural 
history.  The  great  labor  of  collecting  the  material,  to 
say  nothing  of  the  burden  of  preparing  the  volumes  for 
the  press,  was  enough  to  exhaust  the  physical  and  men- 
tal powers  of  half-a-dozeu  scholars.  And  yet  Wilson 
crowded  these  efforts  into  eleven  years,  completely 
breaking  down  his  constitution,  so  that  he  died  at 
forty-seven,  Aug.  23,  1813.  His  funeral  was  attended 
by  an  unusual  concourse  of  people.  The  whole  city  paid 
a  noble  tribute  of  respect  to  his  memory.  The  clergy 
of  all  denominations,  lawyers,  physicians,  educators, 
city  officials,  and  members  of  literary  societies,  walked 
in  procession,  the  Columbian  Society  of  Fine  Arts  lead- 
ing before  the  hearse.  The  English  weaver  had  laid 
the  American  public  under  a  debt  of  gratitude  by  his 
achievements,  and  they  recognized  the  obligation  by 
touching  and  imposing  obsequies. 


MATTHEW  FONTAINE  MAURY.  213 


XXVI. 

MATTHEW  FONTAINE  MAURY. 

THE    DECISION    FOB    A    SEAFARING    LIFE    THAT    LED    TO 
GREATNESS. 

PARENTS,  with  here  and  there  an  exception,  from 
time  immemorial  have  objected  to  their  sons  becoming 
sailors.  Good  reasons  have  nursed  this  disapproval 
of  a  seafaring  life ;  for  the  pursuit  has  ruined  many 
more  young  men  than  it  has  preserved  from  moral 
disaster.  The  parents  of  Matthew  Maury  were  in  full 
sympathy  with  this  view  of  life  on  the  sea,  and  they 
had  no  idea  of  permitting  their  son  to  engage  in  so 
perilous  an  occupation. 

Matthew  was  born  in  Fredericksburg,  Spottsylvania 
County,  Va.,  Jan.  14,  1806.  It  was  a  pioneer  life  to 
which  he  was  born,  where  poor  parents  like  his  found 
it  difficult  to  supply  food  and  clothing  for  their  fami- 
lies. It  was  a  rough  country,  and  those  were  rough 
times  for  boys  in  very  humble  circumstances.  It  was 
on  this  account  that  Mr.  Maury  decided  to  remove  to 
Tennessee  when  Matthew  was  four  years  old.  He 
selected  a  part  of  the  State  that  was  wild  and  uncul- 
tivated, on  the  verge  of  civilization,  and  there  struck 
out  anew  in  the  struggle  for  existence.  It  was  near 
the  small  village  of  Franklin,  where  the  opportunities 


214  TURNING  POINTS. 

for  boys  like  Matthew  were  exceedingly  meagre.  He 
was  endowed  with  mental  faculties  far  beyond  the 
average  boy,  and  greatly  enjoyed  the  few  school-days 
that  fell  to  his  lot.  The  Rev.  James  H.  Otey  con- 
ducted a  school  in  the  vicinity,  and  his  attention  was 
directed  to  Matthew  as  a  lad  of  promise.  In  some 
way  it  was  arranged  that  Matthew  should  enter  his 
school,  though  only  for  a  few  months.  Here  among 
this  rough  and  uncultured  people  he  grew  up  to  early 
manhood.  He  was  ungainly  and  uncultivated,  like  the 
people  with  whom  he  was  reared,  but  he  was  moral. 

From  boyhood  Matthew  had  a  love  for  the  sea.  Sailor 
yarns,  and  stories  of  adventure  on  the  ocean,  interested 
him  above  all  others.  When  not  more  than  twelve 
years  of  age  he  began  to  express  a  desire  to  become 
a  sailor.  But  he  always  encountered  the  opposition 
of  his  parents,  who  would  rather  see  him  buried  than 
alive  on  the  sea.  There  was  not  the  least  probability 
that  they  would  ever  consent  to  his  following  a  sea- 
faring life.  Thus  matters  continued  until  Matthew  was 
nineteen  years  of  age,  with  no  occupation  and  no  pros- 
pect of  any  change  for  the  better.  All  the  while  his 
longing  for  the  sea  was  growing  stronger  and  stronger, 
with  less  and  less  regard  for  the  feelings  of  his  father 
and  mother.  Finally  he  became  somewhat  desperate 
in  his  determination  to  ship  for  a  voyage,  with  or  with- 
out parental  consent.  Evidently  his  parents  feared  that 
he  might  go  against  their  wishes,  which  would  aggravate 
their  trial.  Under  these  circumstances  they  yielded  to 
Matthew's  importunity. 

The  way  was  fortunately  opened  for  service  in  the 
United  States  Navy,  and  he  was  appointed  midshipman 


MATTHEW  FONTAINE  MAUEY.  215 

on  the  frigate  Brandywine.  He  was  well  pleased  with 
his  situation ;  and  his  parents  were  highly  gratified  that 
he  would  not  become  a  common  sailor.  It  was  on  the 
first  day  of  February,  1825,  that  he  sailed  for  a  cruise 
on  the  coast  of  Europe,  and  in  the  Mediterranean.  He 
was  absent  about  eighteen  months,  and  enjoyed  his 
new  life  more  than  he  could  express.  Then  he  was 
transferred  to  the  sloop-of-war  Vincennes  for  a  voyage 
around  the  world.  For  five  years  he  served  as  mid- 
shipman, and  also  devoted  himself  to  nautical  studies 
with  much  enthusiasm.  He  did  not  allow  a  single 
moment  to  run  to  waste,  when  on  duty  or  off.  Officers 
and  men  held  him  in  high  estimation,  and  prophesied 
that  he  would  become  renowned.  He  resolved  to  master 
the  science  of  navigation  in  defiance  of  the  confusion 
and  immorality  on  a  man-of-war..  The  only  time  that 
he  could  find  real  quiet  for  study  and  critical  thought 
was  when  on  watch.  Providing  himself  with  a  piece 
of  chalk,  he  worked  out  problems  upon  cannon-balls, 
one  after  another,  until  the  old  gunner  protested  against 
defacing  the  government's  projectiles  in  this  way.  But 
the  commodore  saw  genius  and  promise  in  what  was 
but  an  oddity  to  the  gunner ;  and  so  young  Maury  was 
allowed  to  proceed  with  his  studies,  using  cannon-balls 
in  lieu  of  a  blackboard. 

In  1831,  at  his  own  request,  he  was  subjected  to  an 
examination  for  promotion,  the  result  ef  which  was  his 
appointment  as  master  of  the  sloop-of-war  Falmouth, 
fitting  out  for  the  Pacific.  This  was  a  signal  triumph 
for  a  young  man  from  the  wilds  of  Tennessee  to  accom- 
plish in  six  years.  By  this  time  his  parents  learned 
that  not  all  sons  are  ruined  on  merchant  vessels  and 


216  TURNING  POINTS. 

sloops-of-war.  Things  were  assuming  a  flattering  ap- 
pearance. Their  resolute  and  determined  boy  had  found 
his  place  after  all.  It  was  fortunate  that  they  yielded 
to  his  importunities.  They  feared  that  he  was  pitching 
his  tent  toward  Sodom  ;  but  it  soon  became  apparent 
that  he  was  in  the  way  of  usefulness  and  renown. 

Maury  did  not  return  to  the  United  States  on  the 
Falmouth,  but  was  transferred  to  the  Dolphin,  on 
which  he  served  as  first  lieutenant,  and  finally  returned 
to  this  country  on  the  Potomac.  In  the  nine  years  he 
had  been  in  the  naval  service  he  had  prepared  a  work 
on  navigation,  which  he  published  soon  after  his  return 
in  1834.  That  the  treatise  was  one  of  great  value,  is 
evident  from  the  fact  that  the  government  adopted  it 
immediately  as  a  text-book  in  naval  schools.  At  thirty- 
three  he  was  offered  the  appointments  of  astronomer 
and  hydrographer  to  the  exploring  expedition  then 
preparing  to  sail  under  the  command  of  Lieutenant 
Charles  AVilkes,  but  he  declined  the  offer.  Two  years 
later  he  visited  his  parents,  who  were  still  living  in 
Tennessee.  On  his  way  through  Ohio  the  stage-coach 
upset,  and  he  received  a  permanent  injury  in  his  knee. 
For  three  years  he  could  not  go  without  crutches,  and 
from  that  time  omvard  was  disabled  for  public  service. 

In  these  circumstances  his  active  brain  turned  to 
other  channels  of  usefulness.  He  resolved  to  correct 
manifest  abuses  in  the  navy,  and  commenced  a  series 
of  articles  "  in  the  Southern  Literary  Messenger  of  Rich- 
mond, Va.,  over  the  name  of  Harry  Bluff,  and  under 
the  general  head  of  '  Scraps  from  the  Lucky  Bag.' " 
These  articles  attracted  the  attention,  not  only  of  the 
general  public,  but  of  government  officials;  and  the 


MATTHEW  FONTAINE  MAUET.  217 

abuses  exposed  were  corrected.  Out  of  this  grew,  also, 
the  establishment  of  a  naval  academy.  Later  on,  a 
naval  academy  was  founded  at  Memphis,  Tenn.,  by  the 
advice  of  Maury.  He  prepared  and  issued  his  "Wind 
and  Current  Charts,"  which  proved  of  great  value  to 
all  voyagers  on  the  sea.  He  established  a  series  of 
deep-sea  soundings,  the  outcome  of  which  was  his 
"  Geography  of  the  Sea,"  one  of  the  most  valuable 
books  of  the  century.  These  facts  show  that  he  pos- 
sessed a  mind  of  large  grasp,  needing  only  the  oppor- 
tunity to  develop  it.  Plainly  he  could  not  have  found 
a  suitable  place  for  his  native  abilities  in  any  land 
occupation.  It  was  only  on  the  field  of  action  which  he 
selected,  where  practical  knowledge  of  nautical  science 
could  be  obtained  more  easily,  that  he  could  develop  as 
a  man  of  exceptional  abilities. 

As  soon  as  the  National  Observatory  at  Washington 
was  completed,  he  was  appointed  superintendent.  One 
of  his  first  efforts  was  to  determine  the  direction  of  the 
winds  and  currents  of  the  sea,  which  was  accomplished 
by  the  most  painstaking  labors.  In  a  labored  essay, 
entitled  "A  Scheme  for  Rebuilding  Southern  Com- 
merce," he  made  known  his  conclusions  respecting  the 
Gulf  Stream,  ocean  currents,  and  great-circle  sailing, 
all  of  which  contributed  to  the  progress  of  our  age  in 
navigating  the  sea.  Other  works  of  his  are,  "  Letters 
on  the  Amazon  and  the  Atlantic  Slopes  of  South  Amer- 
ica," "  Relation  Between  Magnetism  and  the  Circulation 
of  the  Atmosphere,"  "  Lanes  for  Steamers  Crossing  the 
Atlantic,"  "  Mathematical,  Civil,  and  Physical  Geog- 
Taphy."  His  "  Physical  Geography  of  the  Sea "  was 
translated  into  most  of  the  languages  of  Europe  ;  and 


218  TURNING  POINTS. 

the  same  was  true  of  several  other  of  his  works.  In 
this  way  his  fame  spread  throughout  the  world,  and  his 
great  abilities  were  universally  recognized.  The  gov- 
ernments of  "  France,  Austria,  Prussia,  Eussia,  Denmark, 
Belgium,  Portugal,  Sweden,  Sardinia,  Holland,  Norway, 
Spain,  and  Italy  bestowed  orders  of  knighthood  upon 
him.  The  academies  of  science  of  Paris,  Berlin,  Brus- 
sels, St.  Petersburg,  and  Mexico  received  him  into  mem- 
bership." The  University  of  Cambridge  conferred  upon 
him  the  degree  of  LL.D.,  and  the  Emperor  of  the 
French  invited  him  to  the  superintendency  of  the  Na- 
tional Observatory  at  Paris.  He  finally  accepted  the 
chair  of  physics  in  the  Virginia  Military  Institute,  in 
which  professorship  he  continued  until  his  death,  Feb. 
1,  1873. 

A  brilliant  record  for  the  rough,  untutored  son  of 
Tennessee  must  be  the  exclamation  of  every  reader ! 
His  career  shows  that  nothing  is  impossible  for  the 
indomitable,  aspiring,  high-minded  young  man  to  ac- 
complish. The  day  on  which  young  Maury  left  his 
home  for  the  office  of  midshipman  was,  on  the  whole, 
a  sad  one  for  his  parents.  The  most  hopeful  friend 
could  not  have  dreamed  of  so  grand  a  record.  It  was 
made  possible,  not  by  any  opportunity  afforded,  but  by 
his  personal  consecration  to  a  purpose  that  acknowl- 
edged no  defeat.  Once  in  the  way  of  his  native  aspi- 
rations, his  triumph  was  as  sure  as  destiny. 


SIR  DAVID    WILKIE.  219 


XXVII. 

SIR   DAVID  WILKIE. 

THE  COLORED  DRAWING  THAT  EVOKED  THE  PAINTER. 

SIR  DAVID  WILKIE  was  one  of  the  most  gifted  paint- 
ers of  the  nineteenth  century.  His  father  was  a  clergy- 
man, and  meant  that  his  son  should  be.  Other  relatives 
and  friends,  also,  desired  that  he  should  be  educated  for 
the  sacred  office.  But  they  were  forced  to  abandon  that 
idea  in  consequence  of  his  remarkable  ability  in  drawing 
and  portrait-sketching.  The  bent  of  his  genius,  very 
early  in  life,  was  unmistakable  to  all  observers.  The 
one  incident  that  really  made  him  a  painter,  he  himself 
narrated  when  a  baronet  asked  him  if  he  chose  the  art 
of  painting  because  his  father,  mother,  or  other  ancestor 
possessed  a  talent  for  it,  as  follows :  — 

"  The  truth  is,  Sir  John,  that  you  made  me  a  painter. 
When  you  were  drawing  up  the  statistical  account  of 
Scotland,  my  father  had  much  correspondence  with  you 
respecting  his  parish,  in  the  course  of  which  you  sent 
him  a  colored  drawing  of  a  soldier  in  the  uniform  of 
your  Highland  Fencible  Regiment.  I  was  so  delighted 
with  the  sight  that  I  was  constantly  drawing  copies  of 
it ;  and  thus,  insensibly,  I  was  transformed  into  a 
painter." 

He  was  led  by  the  incident  narrated  to  discover  for 


220  TURNING  POINTS. 

what  he  was  best  fitted  by  nature,  and  so  to  make  the 
art  of  painting  his  life-work.  His  parents  had  not 
observed  that  his  natural  bent  lay  in  the  direction  of 
this  art,  nor  had  other  friends  observed  anything  of  the 
kind.  Indeed,  the  boy  himself  appears  to  have  been 
surprised  that  he  could  draw  a  good  imitation  of  the 
soldier  in  uniform.  His  success  delighted  him  so  much 
that  he  kept  on  drawing  and  painting  as  long  as  he  lived. 
The  drawing  of  the  Highland  soldier  did  it. 

David  Wilkie  was  born  in  Cults,  Fifeshire,  Scotland, 
Nov.  18,  1785.  His  ancestors  ranked  high  for  ability, 
independence,  and  moral  character.  From  the  time  he 
drew  the  Highland  soldier,  his  inborn  taste  for  art  ap- 
peared more  and  more.  It  interfered  somewhat  with 
his  studies  in  school,  so  that  both  his  father  and  teach- 
ers had  to  restrain  his  love  of  drawing.  Still,  he  was 
a  good  scholar,  on  the  whole,  and  improved  his  time 
fairly. 

When  he  was  a  small  boy,  Lord  Balgonie' visited  the 
family  at  the  parsonage.  His  lordship  was  distinguished 
for  his  formidable  nose,  and  evidently  little  David  re- 
garded it  with  considerable  wonder ;  for,  taking  a  half- 
burned  stock  of  heather  from  the  fire,  he  drew  a  likeness 
of  the  visitor's  nasal  organ  on  the  hearthstone,  and  then 
exclaimed,  "  Mother,  look  at  'Gonie's  nose."  Somewhat 
mortified  by  this  unexpected  act  of  the  child,  she  was 
about  to  reprove  him  for  being  rude,  when  his  lordship 
came  to  her  relief  by  declaring  that  the  likeness  was 
perfect,  and  commending  the  boy  for  his  ability  to  draw 
so  well.  It  was  an  amusing  scene  to  Balgonie,  who  was 
wont  to  speak  of  it  thereafter  as  proof  of  the  boy's 
genius. 


SIR  DAVID    WILEIE.  221 

From  this  time  his  parents  rather  favored  his  art  pro- 
pensity, except  when  it  interfered  with  his  studies ;  and 
the  walls  of  the  nursery,  after  a  little,  were  adorned  with 
portraits  of  his  father's  parishioners.  They  were  excel- 
lent imitations  of  the  originals  too,  and  visitors  were 
often  taken  into  the  nursery  to  see  them.  They  were 
considered  fine  productions  of  art  for  one  so  young. 

At  seven  years  of  age  he  was  sent  to  Pitlessie  School, 
all  of  his  previous  instruction  having  been  imparted  by 
his  mother  at  home.  The  master  soon  discovered  that 
his  pupil  was  less  interested  in  his  lessons  than  he  was 
in  drawing  the  portraits  of  his  schoolmates.  He  had  no 
heart  to  reprove  him  severely,  however,  because  his  work 
of  art  was  so  wonderful  for  a  boy  of  seven  years.  He 
was  a  great  favorite  with  his  companions,  who  paid  him 
a  marble  for  each  portrait.  Sometimes  he  sketched  his 
schoolmates  in  groups,  as  they  stood  in  a  class,  or  gath- 
ered on  the  play-ground ;  and  these  efforts  were  usually 
rewarded  by  expressions  of  surprise  at  their  correctness. 

In  1797  he  was  taken  from  this  school  and  sent  to 
another  —  the  grammar  school  of  Prettle.  The  master, 
Dr.  Strachan,  did  not  quite  understand  his  pupil,  and 
possibly  he  was  a  difficult  problem  to  solve.  For  with 
all  his  love  of  art,  and  his  ability  to  master  any  branch 
of  study  he  undertook,  there  was  also  a  love  of  mischief 
that  cropped  out  frequently  when  companions  were  in- 
clined to  assist  him  on  that  line.  Hence,  Dr.  Strachan 
said  that  David  "  was  the  most  singular  boy  he  had  ever 
taught."  Perhaps  his  mechanical  genius  mystified  mat- 
ters ;  for  he  was  very  fond  of  machinery,  and  delighted 
to  construct  miniature  mills,  houses,  and  other  articles. 

A  gentleman  relates  that  he  once  called  upon  his  uncle, 


222  TURNING  POINTS. 

who  was  a  minister  at  Auchtermuchty,  where  he  saw  the 
likenesses  of  all  his  children  arranged  in  a  row  upon 
the  wall.  He  remarked  that  they  were  unusually  good, 
the  best  of  the  kind  he  had  ever  seen.  Then  he  was 
told  that  they  were  executed  by  David  Wilkie,  a  nephew 
of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Lister,  his  host.  The  visitor  answered, 
"  He  will  be  heard  from  with  honor  at  no  distant 
period." 

When  at  last  he  was  enabled  to  devote  himself  wholly 
to  painting,  he  entered  upon  his  work  with  untiring  in- 
dustry. It  was  in  the  city  of  Edinburgh,  where  there 
was  much  to  distract  his  attention ;  but  there  was  no 
allurement  that  could  draw  him  away  for  a  moment 
from  his  work  in  art.  A  few  years  more,  and  he  was 
classed  with  the  expert  painters  of  his  day. 

For  a  time,  in  the  early  part  of  his  career,  he  painted 
portraits,  and  won  fame  with  every  effort.  But  after 
entering  the  Royal  Academy  at  London,  when  he  was 
twenty  years  old,  his  attention  was  drawn  to  other  sub- 
jects. Among  his  early  famous  paintings  were  "  The 
Village  Kecruit,"  "Village  Politicians,"  "Blind  Fiddler," 
"Rent  Day,"  "Cut  Finger,"  and  "Village  Festival." 
From  the  time  he  was  twenty-eight  until  he  was  thirty- 
three,  he  painted  "  Blind-Man's  Bluff "  for  the  Prince 
Regent,  "  Letter  of  Introduction,"  "  Distraining  for  the 
Rent,"  and  the  "  Rabbit  on  the  Wall,"  all  of  which  were 
among  the  finest  productions  of  his  life.  Subsequently 
he  executed  "  The  Penny  Wedding  "  for  the  Prince  Re- 
gent, and  "  Reading  of  the  Will  "  for  the  King  of  Bava- 
ria, for  which  he  received  large  prices.  He  spent  two 
years  upon  his  celebrated  "  Chelsea  Pensioners  Listen- 
ing to  the  News  of  Waterloo,"  which  he  painted  for  the 


SIR  DAVID   WILKIE.  223 

Duke  of  Wellington,  for  which  he  received  six  thousand 
dollars.  A  critic  said  of  this  work,  "  It  is  a  masterpiece 
of  color,  composition,  and  execution,  rivalling  in  these 
respects  the  finest  efforts  of  the  Dutch  school,  and  at- 
tracted so  much  admiration  at  the  academy  of  1822  that 
it  was  found  necessary  to  put  a  railing  in  front  of  it." 

In  1823  he  was  appointed  limner  to  the  king  of  Scot- 
land, succeeding  Sir  Henry  Eaeburn.  The  appointment 
was  a  high  tribute  paid  to  his  genius.  In  1825  he  started 
upon  a  Continental  tour,  and  studied  the  old  masters  in 
Italy,  Germany,  and  Spain.  In  1830  he  was  made 
"  painter  in  ordinary  to  the  king,"  the  office  having  been 
made  vacant  by  the  death  of  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence; 
and  the  same  year  he  put  on  exhibition  his  full-length 
portrait  of  George  IV.  in  a  Highland  dress. 

Among  the  later  subjects  that  added  to  his  already 
great  reputation  were  "  John  Knox  Preaching  the  Refor- 
mation in  St.  Andrew's ;  "  "  Christopher  Columbus  Sub- 
mitting the  Chart  of  His  Voyage  for  the  Discovery  of 
the  New  World  to  the  Spanish  Authorities ; "  "  Mary, 
Queen  of  Scots,  Escaping  from  Loch  Leven ; "  "  Sir 
David  Baird  Discovering  the  Body  of  Tippo  Sahib ;  " 
"  Benvenuto  Cellini  Submitting  a  Vase  to  the  Inspection 
of  Pope  Paul  III.  ; "  together  with  portraits  of  William 
IV.,  Queen  Victoria,  the  Duke  of  Wellington,  and  other 
magnates. 

Thus  it  will  be'"seen  that  the  artist  boy  who  drew  the 
Highland  soldier  in  his  childhood,  put  a  vast  amount 
of  fine  work  into  his  profession  before  he  died,  in  June, 
1841,  at  fifty-six  years  of  age.  "  Little  causes  produce 
great  results,"  is  the  old  saw;  and  it  is  illustrated  in 
this  case.  It  was  a  small  thing  for  the  picture  of  the 


224  TURNING  POINTS. 

Highland  soldier  to  fall  into  David's  hand,  but  the 
outcome  placed  the  whole  world  under  a  debt  of  grati- 
tude to  the  artist  who  made  the  event  capable  of  such 
possibilities.  He  reached  a  point,  even  in  early  man- 
hood, where  his  enthusiasm  nearly  exhausted  his  physi- 
cal powers.  He  wrote  to  his  father,  "  My  ambition  has 
got  beyond  all  bounds,  and  I  have  the  vanity  to  hope 
that  Scotland  will  one  day  be  proud  to  boast  of  David 
Wilkie." 

His  health  became  so  impaired,  a  year  before  his 
death,  that  he  sought  relief  in  foreign  climes ;  but  it 
proved  of  no  avail,  so  he  resolved  to  return  to  his 
native  land,  but  died  on  the  passage.  One  of  his 
biographers  says,  — 

"When  the  sad  news  of  his  death  reached  England, 
that  grief  fell  upon  the  public  which  might  well  be 
caused  by  the  loss  of  one  to  whom  it  had  owed  so  much 
and  such  real  gratification ;  whom  an  '  exquisite  feeling 
of  nature '  had  enabled  to  touch  the  hearts  of  all  ranks ; 
whom  early  training  and  a  fine  perception  of  character 
had  fitted,  above  all  others,  to  be  the  painter  of  the 
people ;  and  who,  when  he  was  in  possession  of  well- 
earned  fame  and  honors,  when  some  of  his  most  cher- 
ished dreams  were  splendidly  realized,  continued  the 
same  modest,  unassuming  individual  as  he  had  been 
when  his  pencil  traced  grotesque  figures  on  the  walls  of 
some  Fifeshire  manse,  or  his  Scotch  accent  and  eyes 
bright  with  intelligence  amused  and  charmed  the  stu- 
dents at  the  Royal  Academy." 


ELISHA   KENT  KANE.  225 


XXVIII. 

ELISHA  KENT  KANE. 

THE    CHRISTIAN    HOPE    THAT    SAVED    HIM    FROM 
DISHONOR. 

ELISHA  KENT  KANE,  the  son  of  John  K.  Kane  and 
Jane  Sciper  his  wife,  was  born  Feb.  3,  1820,  in  the 
city  of  Philadelphia.  His  father  was  an  eminent  law- 
yer of  the  city,  and  a  fine  scholar  as  well.  His  mother 
was  a  woman  of  many  accomplishments,  as  heroic  as 
she  was  intelligent.  Both  father  and  mother  were  mem- 
bers of  the  Presbyterian  Church,  in  which  communion 
they  were  influential  and  honored. 

Elisha  Kent  was  a  frail  child,  the  first-born,  requiring 
the  most  tender  care  and  patience  to  rear  him.  As  he 
grew  out  of  babyhood  he  developed  a  passionate  dispo- 
sition and  imperious  will.  At  times  he  was  uncontrol- 
lable, and  his  parents  were  puzzled  to  know  how  to 
manage  him.  The  average  boy  is  usually  a  difficult 
problem  to  solve,  but  Elisha  Kent  was  doubly  so  as  a 
subject  of  discipline.  No  knotty  point  of  law  ever 
perplexed  the  father  so  much  as  how  to  deal  with  his 
self-willed  and  fractious  son.  Dr.  Elder,  his  biographer, 
says  of  him  in  boyhood,  — 

"His  frame  was  admirably  fitted  for  all  manner  of 
athletic  exercises ;  and  his  impulses  kept  it  well  up  to 


226  TURNING  POINTS. 

the  limits  of  its  capabilities,  daring  and  doing  every- 
thing within  the  liberties  of  boy-life  with  an  intent 
seriousness  of  desperation  which  kept  domestic  rule 
upon  the  stretch,  and  threatened,  as  certainly  as  usual 
with  boys  whose  only  badness  is  their  boldness,  to  bring 
down  everybody's  gray  hairs  with  sorrow  to  the  grave. 
It  was  not  the  monkey  mirthfulness  nor  the  unprinci- 
pled recklessness  of  childhood  that  he  was  chargeable 
with,  but  something  more  of  purpose  and  tenacity  in 
exacting  deference  and  enforcing  equity  than  is  usually 
allowed  to. boyhood.  To  arbitrary  authority  he  was  a 
regular  little  rebel.  There  was  nothing  of  passive  sub- 
mission in  his  temper,  and  he  did  not  overlay  it  with 
the  little  hypocrisies  of  good  boy  policy.  He  was  ab- 
solutely fearless,  and,  withal,  given  to  indignation  quite 
up  to  his  own  measurement  of  wrongs  and  insults ;  and 
he  had  a  pair  of  little  fists  that  worked  with  the  steam- 
power  of  passion  in  the  administration  of  distributive 
justice,  which  he  charged  himself  with  executing  at  all 
hazards.  In  right  of  primogeniture,  he  was  protector 
to  his  younger  brothers,  and  was  not  yet  nine  years  old 
when  he  assumed  the  office  with  all  its  duties  and 
dangers." 

This  means  that  he  was  given  to  fighting  —  that  with 
him  it  was  a  word  and  a  blow.  He  loved  his  brothers 
and  sisters  dearly ;  and  he  would  fight  for  them  when- 
ever, in  his  judgment,  it  was  necessary.  Once  he  was 
at  school  with  a  brother  two  years  younger  than  him- 
self. For  some  misdemeanor  the  brother  was  called  up 
for  punishment,  when  Elisha  sprang  from  his  seat  and 
interposed.  "  Don't  whip  him,  he's  such  a  little  fellow, 
whip  me,"  he  demanded.  The  master  was  somewhat 


ELlSIfA   KENT  KANE.  227 

surprised  at  the  boy's  audacity,  and  he  cried  out,  "I'll 
whip  you  too,  sir,"  and  he  did,  though  it  was  a  fight 
between  him  and  the  boy  of  'ten  years.  Elisha's  defiant 
spirit  was  aroused  by  the  master's  tone  of  authority, 
and  he  fought  him  as  lie  would  have  fought  a  street 
adventurer.  But  the  master  flogged  him  until  he  was 
completely  sublued,  and  he  went  home  bearing  the 
marks  of  a  severe  but  just  flagellation,  which  he  wore 
for  several  weeks. 

One  day  four  or  five  large  boys  climbed  upon  the 
roof  of  a  building  in  his  father's  yard,  and  were  amus- 
ing themselves  by  firing  putty-wads  from  blow-guns  at 
the  girls  below.  Elisha  came  along,  and  taking  in  the 
situation,  called  upon  the  boys  to  quit.  Their  reply 
was  a  shower  of  putty-wads  in  his  own  face.  Immedi- 
ately he  climbed  up  the  rain-spout  and  was  among  them 
almost  before  they  knew  he  was  coming.  All  the  boys 
were  larger  than  he ;  but  that  was  no  reason  why  he 
should  not  thrash  the  lot,  so  he  proceeded  to  administer 
punishment.  Seizing  one  by  his  collar,  he  dragged  him 
to  the  edge  of  the  roof,  and  threatened  to  pusH  him 
over,  unless  he  said  that  he  was  sorry  and  promised  to 
do  better.  One  after  another  he  collared  them  and  put 
them  through  the  same  ordeal,  wholly  reckless  of  the 
perils  of  such  a  tussle  on  the  roof,  and  never  question- 
ing but  that  he  was  able  to  thrash  every  one  of  them. 
While  this  mode  of  punishment  was  progressing,  his 
younger  brother  Thomas  was  observing  the  scene  from 
the  pavement,  and  cried  out,  "  Come  down,  'Lisha !  0 
'Lisha,  come  down  ! "  But  Elisha  answered,  "  No,  Tom, 
they  ain't  done  apologizing  yet." 

One  of  -the  chimneys  on  his   father's  dwelling  rose 


228  TURNING   POINTS. 

sixteen  feet  above  the  roof,  for  the  purpose  of  better 
draught.  Elisha  wanted  to  sit  on  the  top  of  it,  and 
he  was  bound  to  do  it.  But  how  to  get  there  was  the 
question.  A  cat  could  not  go  there,  nor  a  squirrel. 
How,  then,  could  a  boy  ?  Elisha  talked  it  over  Avith 
Thomas,  and  finally  concluded  that  he  could  tie  a  stone 
to  one  end  of  the  clothes-line,  and  throw  it  into  the  flue 
of  the  chimney,  where  it  would  fall  down  into  the 
kitchen  fireplace ;  and  there  he  could  fasten  one  end, 
while  the  other  would  be  dangling  from  the  top  of  the 
chimney  upon  the  roof.  But  his  father  would  veto 
such  a  measure  were  it  attempted  in  the  daytime ;  so 
Elisha  proposed  that  it  should  be  done  in  the  night, 
when  all  were  asleep. 

Accordingly,  one  night  they  slipped  out  of  bed,  dressed, 
went  out  upon  the  roof  of  the  front  building,  dropped 
themselves  down  upon  the  kitchen  roof,  where  the 
clothes-line  and  stone  had  been  deposited  for  use,  and 
began  operations.  Again  and  again  Elisha  threw  the 
stone  at  the  flue,  and  missed.  He  had  not  stopped  to 
think  how  difficult  it  would  be  for  a  small  boy  to  throw 
a  stone  into  a  chimney  sixteen  feet  high.  But  he  always 
accomplished  what  he  undertook,  and  he  finally  per- 
formed this  feat,  and  the  stone  went  thumping  down 
the  chimney  into  the  fireplace  below.  Delighted,  the 
young  aspirant  slid  down  the  rain-spout,  and  soon  the 
stone-end  of  the  clothes-line  was  fastened.  Back  he 
climbed,  squirrel-like,  and  soon  was  sitting  squarely  on 
the  chimney's  top,  happy  as  a  king. 

"  O  Tom  !  "  he  exclaimed,  "  what  a  nice  place  this  is ! 
I'll  get  down  into  the  flue  to  my  waist,  and  pull  you  up 
too.  Just  make  a  loop  in  the  rope,  and  I'll  haul  you  in. 
Don't  be  afraid ;  it  is  so  grand  up  here." 


ELISIIA  RENT  KANE.  229 

He  tried  the  experiment  of  pulling  Tom  up;  but  his 
strength  was  not  equal  to  the  task,  and  the  purpose  was 
abandoned.  Having  enjoyed  the  view  from  the  chim- 
ney's top  to  his  heart's  content,  under  a  bright  moon- 
light, the  singular  boy  descended,  and  together  they 
proceeded  to  the  basement,  to  wash  the  clothes-line,  that 
was  black  with  soot.  It  was  necessary  for  them  to  ob- 
literate all  traces  of  the  daring  feat,  that  parental  igno- 
rance might  prove  bliss  to  both  parties.  Having  thus 
concealed  their  tracks,  both  took  to  the  water-spout 
again,  and  hastened  back  to  bed  over  the  roof,  and  soon 
were  asleep. 

Such  illustrations  of  the  young  dare-devil's  life  might 
be  multiplied,  but  these  serve  our  purpose.  It  should 
be  said,  however,  that  the  same  reckless  and  indomitable 
spirit  characterized  him  in  the  schoolroom.  One  ex- 
ample given  is  proof  of  that.  Restraint  seemed  to 
arouse  his  incorrigible  nature,  and  he  could  scarcely 
see  why  an  attempt  should  be  made  to  secure  his  obedi- 
ence. And  yet  he  applied  himself  on  certain  lines  of 
study,  and  was  a  good  scholar  in  his  way.  His  talents 
could  not  be  concealed  by  his  ungovernable  disposition. 
And  so  it  was  not  strange  that  his  teachers  regarded 
him  as  a  "  very  singular  piece  of  humanity ! " 

Evidently  the  boy  was  misunderstood.  He  was  not 
so  bad  as  he  seemed  to  be.  His  parents  and  best  friends 
thought  he  was  on  the  road  to  ruin,  and  would  accom- 
plish the  journey  in  a  very  short  time.  Putting  together 
cause  and  effect  as  they  saw  them,  it  was  the  only  con- 
clusion to  which  they  could  arrive.  What  would  come 
next  in  the  young  rebel's  life  was  the  anxiety  of  each 
recurring  day.  Could  they  have  seen  what  only  God 


230  TURNING  POINTS. 

himself  could  see,  however,  they  would  have  found  some 
relief  from  fearful  apprehensions. 

At  sixteen  years  of  age  Elisha  began  to  recognize  the 
value  of  education,  and  his  father  seized  the  opportunity 
to  prepare  him  for  college.  This  done,  he  entered  the 
University  of  Virginia,  where  the  course  of  study  was 
elective,  and  this  just  suited  him.  He  chose  studies 
that  would  fit  him  for  a  civil  engineer,  and  made  rapid 
progress  in  chemistry,  mineralogy,  physical  geography, 
and  kindred  branches.  Near  the  close  of  his  studies  in 
this  institution  his  health  failed,  and  an  organic  affec- 
tion of  the  heart  appeared.  However,  he  was  graduated, 
and  returned  home  seriously  ill  with  "  endocarditis, 
inflammation  of  the  lining  membrane  of  the  heart." 
His  condition  was  not  concealed  from  him.  He  said 
to  a  friend,  "The  doctors  tell  me  that  if  I  throw  off 
this  paroxysm  I  may  live  a  month,  or  perhaps  half  a 
year ;  but  they  know,  and  I  know,  that  I  may  be  struck 
down  in  half  an  hour." 

"  This  was  the  period  of  a  new  birth  to  him,"  says 
Dr.  Elder.  He  stood  face  to  face  with  death,  when  a 
man  thinks  seriously,  if  he  ever  does.  It  was  the  first 
time  in  his  life  that  he  had  ever  realized  his  inability 
to  do  and  dare.  He  was  not  under  parental  discipline 
now.  He  was  not  under  the  control  of  teachers.  He 
was  in  the  hand  of  God,  and  he  realized  the  fact. 
Human  wisdom  and  power  are  inadequate  to  guide 
and  save  such  a  youth.  God  assumed  the  management 
of  the  misunderstood  youth,  and  he  came  out  of  the 
trial  a  new  man.  He  was  born  again  ;  and  his  second 
birth  seemed  absolutely  necessary  to  make  his  first  birth 
of  any  practical  value  to  the  world.  God  had  a  great 


ELISITA   KENT  KANE.  231 

work  for  him  to  do,  and  he  had  endowed  him  with  quali- 
ties well  suited  to  that  work,  but  which  men  had  not 
understood  ;  and  now  appears  the  Arctic  explorer.  Here 
was  the  crisis  of  his  life,  and  he  turned  into  the  way  of 
right  and  renown. 

We  need  not  discuss  the  details  of  his  life  as  the 
great  Arctic  explorer.  It  is  necessary  to  say  only,  that 
the  earnest  petition  of  Lady  Franklin  to  President 
Taylor,  in  1850,  for  an  American  expedition  to  be  sent 
out  in  search  of  her  husband,  Sir  John  Franklin,  secured 
an  Act  by  Congress,  whereby  an  expedition  started  under 
the  leadership  of  young  Kane,  who  was  only  thirty  years 
of  age,  but  just  fitted,  by  nature  and  education,  for  such 
a  responsibility. 

He  was  a  true,  noble  man  now ;  and  he  went  forth 
"  governed  by  sound  and  thorough  moral  principle,  and 
sanctified  by  the  influences  of  the  religion  of  the  Bible, 
which  reveals  and  offers  to  us  Jesus  the  Christ  of  God 
as  in  all  things  a  Saviour."  He  conducted  two  expedi- 
tions ;  and  the  following  three  rules  he  established  when 
he  went  forth  upon  the  second  expedition  :  — 

"  1.    Implicit  and  unvarying  obedience  to  orders. 

"  2.    Entire  abstinence  from  intoxicating  liquors. 

"3.  Daily  devout  worship  of  God  in  all  circum- 
stances." 

He  was  beloved  by  his  men  ;  so  kind  and  thoughtful, 
so  attentive  and  tender  when  they  were  sick,  so  calm 
and  cheerful  in  the  most  fearful  storm  and  danger,  and 
in  all  conditions  so  trustful  and  hopeful.  "The  boy 
was  father  of  the  man  "  in  all  the  heroic  virtues  of  a 
great  soul. 

His  descent   into  the  volcano    of   Tael   proved   that 


232  TURNING  POINTS. 

religion  did  not  modify  his  bravery;  that  he  was  still 
wholly  regardless  of  danger.  He  was  let  down  two 
hundred  feet  beyond  the  point  usually  visited,  and 
then  descended  to  the  very  edge  of  the  boiling  caldron, 
and  filled  his  specimen  bottles  with  the  liquid  fire. 
The  sulphurous  heat  and  air  so  overcame  him  that  he 
had  barely  strength  enough  to  tie  the  bamboo  ropes 
around  his  body.  He  was  totally  insensible  when  he 
was  drawn  up  to  terra  firma,  but  soon  recovered.  His 
boots  were  charred  to  pieces  on  his  feet. 

At  one  time  a  party  of  eight  or  ten  was  sent  out  to 
explore,  and  several  days  had  elapsed  when  three  of  the 
number  returned,  almost  crazed  by  the  extreme  cold  and 
hardships  (the  thermometer  was  fifty-seven  degrees  be- 
low zero),  and  reported  that  the  other  members  of  the 
expedition  were  perishing  miles  away.  Immediately 
Kane  organized  a  company  of  ten  to  go  to  their  rescue ; 
and  he  himself  led  them,  notwithstanding  that  his  old 
heart  trouble  had  returned  with  alarming  symptoms. 
After  eighteen  hours  of  terrible  adventure,  in  which 
Kane  fainted  three  times,  and  two  of  his  men  were 
seized  with  fits,  their  perishing  companions  were  found, 
more  dead  than  alive,  and  restored  to  the  ships.  "We 
knew  you  would  come :  we  knew  you  would  come,  bro- 
ther !  "  said  one  of  the  men  who  was  able  to  speak. 
Why  did  he  know  that  Dr.  Kane  would  come  ?  Be- 
cause he  knew  the  stuff  that  he  was  made  of,  and  that 
he  would  risk  his  life  for  any  one  of  them. 

Dr.  Kane  did  not  live  to  return  to  his  native  city. 
He  died  at  Havana,  Cuba,  on  the  16th  of  February, 
1857,  at  thirty-seven  years  of  age.  The  reception  of 
his  remains  in  this  country  was  attended  with  all  the 


EL1SHA   KENT  KANE.  233 

demonstrations  of  sorrow  usually  paid  to  dead  conquer- 
ors and  presidents.  His  pastor  preached  the  funeral 
sermon,  in  which  he  quoted  the  following  words  of 
the  departed  hero  :  — 

"  A  trust,  based  on  experience  as  well  as  on  promises, 
buoyed  me  up  at  the  worst  of  times.  Call  it  fatalism, 
as  you  ignorantly  may,  there  is  that  in  the  story  of 
every  eventful  life  which  teaches  the  inefficiency  of 
human  means,  and  the  present  control  of  a  Supreme 
Agency.  I  never  doubted  for  an  instant  that  the  same 
Providence  which  had  guarded  us  through  the  long 
darkness  of  winter  was  still  watching  over  us  for  good, 
and  that  it  was  yet  in  reserve  for  us  —  for  some,  I 
dared  not  hope  for  all  —  to  bear  back  the  tidings  of  our 
rescue  to  a  Christian  land." 

The  pastor  closed  his  eloquent  tribute  with  these 
words,  "Let  the  chaplet  be  woven,  let  the  banner  be 
shrouded,  let  the  dirge  be  wailed,  and,  with  fair,  fond 
pageantry,  let  dust  be  rendered  back  to  its  kindred 
dust ;  but  we  shall  not  have  soared  to  the  highest  moral 
of  the  elegiac  spectacle,  until,  from  that  eternity  which 
lies  beyond  the  tomb  of  blighted  hope  and  buried  glory, 
we  return  to  write  upon  it,  '  This  also  is  vanity.' 

"  Are  not  the  Arctic  explorations  a  Christian  Iliad  ? 
and  is  not  our  Achilles  nobler  than  Thetis's  son  ?  " 


234  TURNING  POINTS. 


XXIX. 

HUGH  MILLER. 

THE    ADVICE    OF    HIS    BETROTHED    THAT    RAISED    HIM 
FROM    STOXE-MASOX    TO    SCHOLAR. 

THE  ancestors  of  Hugh  Miller  were  sailors,  —  a 
hardy,  intelligent,  adventurous  race.  His  father  was 
at  first  apprenticed  to  a  farmer ;  but  the  attractions  of 
the  sea  were  too  strong  for  him,  and  he  became  an  ex- 
pert sailor,  and  even  served  his  country  in  the  naval 
service,  and  fought  battles  like  a  hero. 

When  Hugh  Miller  was  five  years  old,  his  father 
perished  in  a  terrible  storm.  Not  one  on  board  his  ship 
survived  to  tell  the  story  of  their  fate.  The  boy  was 
born  at  Cromarty,  Scotland,  Oct.  10,  1802,  and  was  old 
enough  to  realize  his  loss.  "  Long  after  hope  had  diea 
in  every  breast  save  his  own,  was  little  Miller  seen 
looking  wistfully  out  from  the  grassy  protuberance  of 
the  old  coast-line  above  his  mother's  house,  into  the 
Moray  Frith,  for  the  sloop  with  the  white  stripes  and 
the  square  topsails ;  but  sloop  nor  sire  never  came 
again." 

After  the  father's  death  two  uncles  cared  for  Hugh 
and  his  sisters  with  as  much  devotion  as  they  gave  to 
their  own  children.  Hugh  was  put  into  a  school  near 
by,  where  he  became  a  great  reader.  He  had  learned 


HUGH  MILLER.  235 

to  read  at  home,  but  had  no  books  to  read.  In  this 
school,  however,  he  "discovered  that  the  art  of  reading 
is  the  art  of  finding  stories  in  books,"  as  he  said  in  his 
manhood.  From  that  time  he  devoured  all  the  story- 
books he  could  find.  Bible  stories  interested  him,  espe- 
cially the  story  of  Joseph,  Samson,  David,  Goliath, 
Elisha,  and  kindred  narratives.  "  Jack  the  Giant  Kil- 
ler," «  Jack  and  the  Bean  Stalk,"  «  Blue  Beard,"  "  Sind- 
bad  the  Sailor,"  "  Beauty  and  the  Beast,"  "  Aladdin  ;  or, 
The  Wonderful  Lamp,"  stirred  his  soul  to  its  depths. 
Later  on,  "  Pilgrim's  Progress,"  Harvie's  "  Scots  Wor- 
thies," "  Naphthali ;  or,  The  Hind  let  Loose,"  Pope's 
"Iliad,"  with  others  of  equal  fascination,  absorbed  his 
attention.  The  consequence  was  that  he  loved  reading 
better  than  he"  did  study.  He  would  steal  away  to 
read  when  he  would  not  apply  himself  to  arithmetic 
or  geography.  He  remained  in  the  above-named  school 
one  year. 

Next  he  was  placed  in  the  grammar  school  of  Cro- 
marty,  where  there  were  one  hundred  and  twenty  pupils. 
Being  wilful  and  stubborn,  his  teachers  were  greatly 
tried  with  him.  He  could  excel  in  any  branch  of  study 
undertaken,  but  he  would  not ;  nor  could  his  teachers 
persuade  or  compel  him  to  apply  himself  closely  to 
study.  At  the  same  time,  he  would  hold  his  com- 
panions spellbound  by  the  narration  of  tales  from  the 
books  he  had  read,  and  his  listeners  held  him  in  high 
estimation.  They  treated  him  as  the  brightest  and  best- 
informed  pupil  in  school.  But  the  teachers  complained 
of  him  to  his  uncles,  and  declared  that  there  was  no 
promise  of  future  good  in  him.  His  uncles  were  bright, 
intelligent  men,  and  could  see  for  themselves  that  Hugh 


236  TURNING  POINTS. 

was  no  common  boy.  They  had  high  hopes  of  his 
future,  if  he  could  be  placed  under  the  requisite  dis- 
cipline. 

A  private  school  was  opened  in  town,  to  which  the 
more  prominent  class  of  citizens  sent  their  children, 
and  Hugh  became  a  pupil.  The  first  teacher,  however, 
proved  a  failure,  and  the  second  also,  and  the  third ;  so 
that  Hugh  derived  little  good  from  the  two  or  three 
years  he  spent  there.  He  was  very  much  interested  in 
natural  history,  and  dearly  loved  to  range  field  and 
forest,  to  study  trees,  plants,  caves,  stones,  and  animals ; 
and  these  repeated  interruptions  of  his  school  afforded 
him  an  opportunity  to  explore  the  country.  It  was  at 
this  time  that,  in  company  with  a  schoolfellow,  he  went 
to  explore  a  cave  on  the  shore ;  and  the  tide  rose  while 
they  were  prosecuting  their  researches,  and  they  found 
themselves  enclosed  by  water  for  the  night.  The  towns- 
people were  called  together  late  in  the  evening  to  organ- 
ize a  searching  party.  Only  when  next  morning  broke 
were  the  young  explorers  found. 

Once  he  went  on  a  visit  to  relatives  in  the  Highlands 
of  Scotland,  where  he  pursued  his  nature  studies  in 
his  original  way.  One  of  his  biographers  puts  it  thus : 
"  Drawing  maps  of  the  country  in  the  sand,  he  arranged 
colored  shells  in  the  different  compartments  to  repre- 
sent inhabitants ;  and,  as  king  of  the  imaginary  realm, 
designed  roads,  canals,  and  harbors,  proceeding  to  gov- 
ern in  accordance  with  the  views  he  had  gathered  from 
books." 

When  he  was  seventeen  his  mother  married  again, 
and  Hugh  was  apprenticed  to  a  stone-mason  in  the 
town.  It  was  not  according  to  the  wishes  of  his  uncles, 


HUGH  MILLER.  237 

who  earnestly  hoped  that  he  would  become  a  clergyman. 
But  this  profession  had  no  attraction  for  such  a  boy. 
As  stone-mason  he  would  be  admitted  to  one  department 
of  nature  to  which  he  had  given  some  research.  His 
uncles  finally  acquiesced,  though  they  were  much  dis- 
appointed. Hugh  applied  himself  more  closely  to  cut- 
ting stone  than  he  ever  did  to  the  solution  of  arithmetical 
problems.  He  became  an  expert  stone-mason,  and  as- 
sociated himself  with  several  of  the  same  craft,  going 
about  the  country  in  search  of  work.  About  this  time 
he  built  a  stone  house  for  his  aunt  in  Cromarty. 

During  these  years  of  toil  he  wrote  many  poems,  sev- 
eral of  which  were  published  in  the  Inverness  Courier. 
He  continued  to  read  and  pursue  his  studies  in  natural 
history,  thus  improving  his  leisure  time  in  a  way  that 
yielded  fruit  twenty  years  later.  He  advanced  in  liter- 
ary taste  from  year  to  year,  and  intimate  acquaintances 
began  to  think  he  would  become  distinguished. 

He  had  been  somewhat  sceptical  hitherto,  and  once  he 
said  that  he  was  an  atheist.  But  as  years  ripened  he 
became  more  thoughtful,  and  discovered  a  close  connec- 
tion between  science  and  religion.  About  1823  he  became 
a  Christian,  and  from  that  period  had  no  doubts  or  wav- 
ering about  Christianity.  Two  years  later  both  of  his 
uncles  died,  also  his  dearest  friend,  William  Ross ;  and 
these  afflictions  strengthened  his  religious  sentiments. 

In  1831  he  formed  the  acquaintance  of  Miss  Lydia 
Mackenzie  Frazer,  and  that  acquaintance  ripened  into 
an  engagement.  Miss  Frazer  was  quite  literary  in  her 
tastes;  and  to  her  close  observation  and  unselfish  love 
Hugh  Miller  seemed  a  greater  man  than  others  had 
supposed  him  to  be.  She  advised  him  to  relinquish 


238  TURNING  POINTS. 

manual  labor,  and  devote  himself  entirely  to  literary 
work.  She  saw  that  his  literary  and  scientific  acquisi- 
tions qualified  him  already  to  write  essays  on  various 
subjects,  and  to  make  himself  more  useful  to  his  race 
than  he  could  be  in  hammering  stone.  She  convinced 
him  that  he  possessed  talents  for  prose  writing,  and  that 
on  this  line  he  would  make  rapid  and  sure  advancement. 
Her  sagacious  counsel  induced  him  to  exchange  the 
business  of  cutting  stone  for  that  of  a  clerkship  in  the 
Commercial  Bank  at  Linlithgow,  thereby  supporting  him- 
self where  he  would  find  much  time  for  intellectual 
pursuits.  Here  he  completed  and  published  his  first 
prose  work,  "  Scenes  and  Legends  in  the  North  of  Scot- 
land," some  months  before  he  married  Miss  Frazer,  on 
Jan.  7, 1837.  But  during  the  six  years  of  their  affianced 
life,  Hugh  Miller  was  continually  stimulated  and  en- 
couraged to  press  on  towards  the  mark  by  the  love  and 
counsel  of  her  who  had  promised  to  be  his  wife.  He 
often  said  that  but  for  her  he  never  should  have  for- 
saken the  quarry  for  the  place  and  work  of  a  scholar. 
And  the  same  tender  influence  that  turned  him  from 
manual  to  intellectual  achievements,  proved  a  benedic- 
tion to  his  wedded  life,  leading  him  up  higher,  until  his 
fame  was  world-wide. 

We  need  not  detail  his  intellectual  and  moral  work 
from  this  time  until  his  death.  "The  Old  Ked  Sand- 
stone," "  First  Impressions  of  England  and  its  People," 
"Vestiges  of  the  Natural  History  of  Creation,"  "Foot- 
prints of  the  Creator,"  "  My  Schools  and  Schoolmasters," 
"  Geology  of  the  Bass  Rock,"  and  "  Testimony  of  the 
Rocks,"  without  naming  other  productions  of  his  pen, 
have  associated  his  name  with  the  best  scholars  and 
greatest  benefactors  of  mankind. 


HUGH  MILLER.  289 

As  years  accumulated,  his  labors,  public  and  private, 
multiplied.  His  wife,  family  physician,  and  other 
friends  expostulated  and  warned  him  against  overwork. 
They  pointed  out  the  inevitable  outcome  of  mental 
shipwreck  under  so  constant  and  pressing  work.  But 
it  was  all  to  no  purpose.  He  wrote  and  studied  until 
reason  was  dethroned ;  and,  on  the  night  of  Dec.  23-24, 
1856,  he  died  by  his  own  hand.  On  the  table  in  his 
study  lay  the  following  letter  addressed  to  his  wife :  — 

"  DEAREST  LYDIA,  —  My  brain  burns.  I  must  have 
walked,  and  a  fearful  dream  rises  upon  me.  I  cannot 
bear  the  horrible  thought.  God  and  Father  of  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ  have  mercy  upon  me  !  Dearest 
Lydia,  dear  children,  farewell.  My  brain  burns  as  the 
recollection  grows. 

"  My  dear  wife,  farewell ! 

"HUGH  MILLER." 

Smiles  says  of  this  life,  "A  truly  noble  and  inde- 
pendent character  in  the  humblest  condition  of  life,  — 
the  condition  in  which  a  large  mass  of  the  people  of 
this  country  are  born  and  brought  up ;  and  it  teaches  to 
all,  but  especially  to  poor  men,  what  it  is  in  the  power 
of  each  to  accomplish  for  himself.  The  life  of  Hugh 
Miller  is  full  of  lessons  of  self-help  and  self-respect, 
and  shows  the  efficacy  of  these  in  working  out  for  a  man 
an  honorable  competence  and  a  solid  reputation." 

The  quarry  opened  to  his  sharp  observation,  persever- 
ance, and  indomitable  spirit,  and  proved  better  than 
school  or  college ;  while  his  devoted  fiancee  turned  both 
talents  and  acquisitions  into  the  way  of  scholarly 
achievement. 


240  TURNING  POINTS. 


XXX. 

MARIA  MITCHELL.- 

THE    DECISION    AT    SIXTEEN    THAT    ASSURED    THE 
ASTRONOMER. 

LYDIA  COLEMAN  was  one  of  the  brightest  Quaker 
girls  of  Nantucket,  Mass.,  in  the  early  part  of  the 
present  century.  She  was  clerk  of  the  Friends'  Meet- 
ing in  town ;  also  librarian  successively  of  the  two 
circulating  libraries,  every  book  of  which  she  read 
through  during  her  official  connection  with  them.  She 
was  wont  to  relate  to  her  associates  the  substance  of 
her  reading  on  evenings  when  they  met,  much  to  their 
enjoyment  and  profit.  Among  that  coterie  of  friends 
was  William  Mitchell,  a  young  schoolmaster,  who  was 
thoroughly  captivated  by  her  bright,  intelligent  appear- 
ance and  lovely  character.  The  outcome  was  that  he 
fell  in  love  with,  and  married  her. 

For  seven  yeark  after  his  marriage  he  was  associated 
with  his  father  in  the  manufacture  of  soap,  and  then 
returned  to  schoolkeepiug.  He  became  master  of  a 
grammar  school  in  Nantucket,  where  he  served  several 
years,  and  then  opened  a  private  school.  In  process  of 
time  he  became  the  father  of  ten  children,  and  was  still 
a  pedagogue  in  town.  Maria  was  the  third  child  of  the 
flock,  resembling  her  mother  in  her  intellectual  gifts 


MARIA   MITCHELL.  241 

more  than  any  other  child  of  the  ten.  She  was  born 
Aug.  1,  1818 ;  and  at  an  early  age  became  a  member  of 
her  father's  school.  She  loved  reading  as  much  as  her 
mother  ever  did,  and  before  she  entered  her  teens 
developed  a  decided  taste  for  scientific  studies.  Her 
father  was  quick  to  discover  her  intellectual  tastes,  and 
governed  himself  accordingly.  Indeed,  her  father  was 
a  born  astronomer.  When  he  was  only  eight  years  of 
age  his  father  told  him  about  Saturn,  and  pointed  out 
the  planet  to  him  ;  and  from  that  time  he  was  able  to 
calculate  his  age  from  the  position  of  that  planet,  year 
by  year.  He  was  ever  studying  the  heavenly  bodies 
through  his  youth;  and  at  the  time  Maria  became  a 
member  of  his  school  he  had  an  observatory  upon  his 
own  land,  and  earned  one  hundred  dollars  a  year  in 
making  astronomical  calculations  for  the  United  States 
Survey. 

Mr.  Mitchell  was  in  advance  of  public  opinion  re- 
specting the  education  of  girls.  He  believed  that  they 
should  enjoy  the  same  school  curriculum  as  boys,  as 
they  were  equal,  if  not  superior,  in  intellectual  power 
and  endurance.  Therefore  his  daughters  received  the 
same  drill  as  his  sons.  Maria  studied  navigation  and 
the  higher  mathematics,  and  found  great  delight  in 
solving  problems  that  staggered  the  brightest  boy. 
Making  play  of  study  was  not  a  fad  of  that  day,  so 
that  a  scholar's  experience  under  Mr.  Mitchell's  in- 
struction was  hard,  solid  study.  He  was  not  very 
friendly  to  ornamental  branches,  such  as  music,  needle- 
work, painting,  and  the  like,  because  there  was  not 
time  enough  to  master  the  useful  and  command  the 
ornamental  too.  For  this  reason  Maria's  time  was  de- 


242  TURNING   POINTS. 

voted  to  studies  that  required  constant  application 
and  the  most  discriminating  thought.  In  consequence, 
thinking  became  both  a  duty  and  pastime  to  her,  and 
her  mind  expanded  and  strengthened  rapidly. 

At  sixteen  her  schooldays  ended.  The  event  had 
been  discussed  in  the  family,  as  it  was  contemplated 
in  the  distance.  She  was  qualified  to  teach  school,  as 
her  eldest  sister  was  doing ;  and  she  might  bring  much- 
needed  money  into  the  family  in  that  way.  On  the 
other  hand,  she  could  be  of  great  service  to  her  father 
in  the  work  of  the  coast  survey,  though  there  was  little 
money  in  it;  and,  possibly,  this  kind  of  service  might 
lead  to  something  better  in  the  future.  Here  were  the 
two  issues  from  which  to  choose,  —  present  good  or 
future  advantage.  One  open  door,  as  the  sequal  proved, 
led  directly  to  usefulness  and  renown  in  astronomical 
science ;  the  other  might  have  led  away  from  intel- 
lectual achievements  into  the  monotonous  and  com- 
monplace routine  of  the  schoolina'am's  vocation.  Here 
came  the  opportunity  of  her  life,  and  it  was  a  wise 
choice  that  embraced  it.  It  was  settled  that  she  should 
become  her  father's  assistant ;  and  at  seventeen  years  of 
age  she  took  up  what  proved  to  be  her  life-work.  The 
turning-point  of  her  career  was  at  sixteen. 

Her  father's  astronomical  labor  was  already  draAving 
the  attention  of  such  scientific  men  as  Sillirnan,  Agassiz, 
and  Bache ;  and  the  Mitchell  home  became  the  rendezvous 
of  this  class  of  thinkers.  Maria  was  thus  introduced 
directly  into  the  best  society  for  a  girl  of  her  mental 
calibre  and  aspirations  to  enjoy.  v  Their  conversation 
was  not  only  instructive,  but  inspiring  to  her.  Their 
discussions  stimulated  her  mental  faculties,  and  aroused 


MARIA  MITCHELL.  243 

her  to  make  greater  endeavors  at  self-improvement. 
She  became  enthusiastic  in  the  pursuit  of  astronomy. 

But  her  father  was  poor.  He  lectured  occasionally 
before  learned  bodies,  and  he  wrote  articles  for  S'dli- 
man's  Journal ;  but  the  small  remuneration  that  he  re- 
ceived scarcely  supplied  the  family  with  food  and  clothes. 
Under  these  circumstances  Maria  accepted  the  position 
of  librarian  in  town,  at  sixty  dollars  for  the  first  year, 
seventy-five  for  the  second,  and  one  hundred  for  the 
third.  She  could  still  be  her  father's  assistant,  and  act 
as  librarian  also.  For  twenty  years  she  filled  this  office, 
at  one  hundred  dollars  a  year,  and  pursued  her  astro- 
nomical researches  with  unabated  interest  and  perse- 
verance. She  once  wrote,  "  I  was  born  of  only  ordinary 
capacity,  but  of  extraordinary  persistency."  It  was 
this  "extraordinary  persistency"  that  kept  her  in  her 
father's  observatory  when  she  might  have  been  much 
better  paid  in  some  other  pursuit.  She  had  put  her 
hand  to  the  plough,  and  would  not  look  back.  The 
furrow  must  be  made.  Sunshine  or  storm,  pros- 
perity or  adversity,  she  would  move  forward  in  her 
work. 

We  must  not  overlook  what  Maria  Mitchell  claimed 
was  of  inestimable  value  to  her  in  womanhood;  viz., 
the  reading  of  the  best  books  in  her  girlhood ;  not  the 
best  novels,  or  the  best  literature  even,  but  useful,  solid 
works  that  inspired  thought,  and,  for  that  reason,  dis- 
ciplined the  mind.  She  once  said,  "  We  always  had 
books,  and  were  bookish  people.  There  was  a  public 
library  in  Nantucket  before  I  was  born.  It  was  not  a 
free  library,  but  we  always  paid  the  subscription  of  one 
dollar  per  annum,  and  always  read  and  studied  from  it. 


244  TURNING  POINTS. 

I  remember  among  its  volumes  Hannah  More's  books 
and  Rollings  "  Ancient  History."  I  remember,  too,  that 
Charles  Folger,  the  present  secretary  of  the  treasury, 
and  I  had  both  read  this  latter  through  before  we  were 
ten  years  old,  though  neither  of  us  spoke  of  it  to  the 
other  until  a  later  period." 

Her  progress  in  astronomy  was  remarkable.  At 
twenty-nine  years  of  age,  October,  1847,  she  discovered 
a  comet.  Startled  and  overjoyed,  she  called  her  father's 
attention  to  the  discovery,  and  he  was  satisfied  that  it 
was  a  fact,  and  wrote  to  Prof.  William  C.  Bond  of 
Cambridge,  as  follows  :  — 

"MY  DEAR  FRIEND,  —  I  write  now  merely  to  say 
that  Maria  discovered  a.  telescopic  comet  at  half -past 
ten  on  the  evening  of  the  1st  instant,  at  that  hour 
nearly  above  Polaris  five  degrees.  Last  evening  it  had 
advanced  westerly ;  this  evening,  still  farther,  and  near- 
ing  the  pole.  It  does  not  bear  illumination.  Maria  has 
obtained  its  right  ascension  and  declination,  and  will 
not  suffer  me  to  announce  it.  Pray  tell  me  whether 
it  is  one  of  George's ;  and  whether  it  has  been  seen 
by  anybody.  Maria  supposes  it  may  be  an  old  story. 
If  quite  convenient,  just  drop  a  line  to  her.  It  will 
oblige  me  much.  I  expect  to  leave  home  in  a  day  or 
two,  and  shall  be  in  Boston  next  week;  and  I  would 
like  to  have  her  hear  from  thee  before  I  can  meet  thee. 
I  hope  it  will  not  give  thee  much  trouble  amidst  thy 
close  engagements.  Our  regards  are  to  all  of  you  most 
truly. 

"  Yours  truly. 

"  WILLIAM  MITCHELL." 


MARIA  MITCHELL.  245 

The  result  proved  that  Miss  Mitchell  had  discovered 
a  comet,  and  subsequently  she  received  a  gold  medal, 
valued  at  twenty  ducats,  from  Frederick  VI.  of  Den- 
mark, for  being  the  discoverer  of  "  Miss  Mitchell's 
Comet."  She  was  now  famous  among  astronomers,  and 
her  name  was  blazoned  upon  the  public  prints  of  this 
and  other  lands  as  a  young  woman  of  superior  talents 
arid  promise. 

In  1857  she  visited  Europe.  Her  fame  had  preceded 
her ;  and  everywhere  she  was  received  by  the  men  and 
women  of  science  with  great  demonstrations  of  respect 
and  honor.  She  spent  a  whole  year  abroad,  familiariz- 
ing herself  with  the  observatories  of  Europe,  and  was 
feted  in  every  part  of  the  country  as  a  scholar  of  dis- 
tinguished acquisitions.  After  the  lapse  of  a  year  she 
returned  to  Nantucket. 

In  1860  her  mother  died ;  and  a  year  later  she  re- 
moved with  her  father  to  Lynn,  Mass.  Miss  Mitchell 
was  now  receiving  five  hundred  dollars  for  her  govern- 
ment computations ;  and  she  had  laid  by  sixteen  hun- 
dred and  fifty  dollars,  with  which  she  purchased  a 
humble  home  in  Lynn.  It  was  quite  necessary  that 
she  and  her  father  should  be  near  Boston,  hence  the 
removal.  In  1865  Vassar  College  was  opened,  with 
three  hundred  and  fifty  students ;  and  Miss  Mitchell 
was  named  by  the  trustees  to  occupy  the  observatory. 
No  person  thought  of  any  one  else  for  the  position,  a 
fact  that  shows  her  prominence  as  a  scientist  with  the 
American  people. 

Her  father  was  feeble,  and  needed  her  care ;  but  he 
said,  "  Go,  and  I  will  go  with  you."  So  their  residence 
in  Lynn  was  exchanged  for  one  in  Poughkeepsie,  where 


246  TURNING  POINTS. 

the  college  was  located.  Her  father  lived  four  years  to 
witness  his  daughter's  success  as  professor  in  the  first 
college  established  for  females  in  the  whole  world.  Be- 
fore going  to  Vassar  the  women  of  America,  under  the 
leadership  of  Miss  Elizabeth  Peabody  of  Boston,  pre- 
sented her  with  a  much  larger  and  more  valuable  tele- 
scope than  her  father  possessed.  As  professor  in  the 
college  she  was  highly  esteemed,  and  taught  the  young 
ladies  many  valuable  lessons  outside  of  astronomy ; 
and  by  her  humility  and  Christian  life  led  many  of 
them  to  value  character  more  highly  even  than  learning. 

"The  degree  of  LL.D.  was  conferred  on  her  by  Han- 
over in  1852,  and  by  Columbia  in  1887.  She  was  a  mem- 
ber of  various  scientific  societies,  having  been  elected  a 
member  of  the  American  Association  for  the  Advance- 
ment of  Science  in  1850,  and  a  fellow  of  that  organiza- 
tion in  1874.  Miss  Mitchell  was  the  first  woman  to  be 
elected  to  the  American  Academy  of  Arts  and  Sciences." 
The  contributions  of  her  pen  to  scientific  journals  were 
frequent  and  valuable ;  and  it  was  all  done  for  the 
advancement  of  science,  and  not  for  money  or  fame. 

Impaired  health  compelled  her  to  resign  her  position 
at  Vassar  in  1888,  and  she  died  on  June  28,  1889, 
mourned  by  the  thousands  of  her  pupils,  and  honored 
by  an  appreciative  and  grateful  public. 


HENRY   WILSON.  247 


XXXI. 

HENRY  WILSON. 

THE    VILLAGE    LYCEUM    THAT    TRANSFORMED    THE 
COBBLER    INTO    A    SENATOR. 

HENRY  WILSON  was  born  in  Farmington,  N.  H., 
Feb.  16,  1812.  His  original  name  was  Jeremiah  Jones 
Colbaith,  which  he  had  changed,  by  legislative  enact- 
ment, to  Henry  Wilson,  when  he  became  old  enough  to 
experience  the  inconvenience  of  a  long  name.  His 
father  was  a  day-laborer,  industrious,  honest,  and  re- 
spectable. He  was  very  poor,  too,  and  found  it  difficult 
to  support  his  family.  On  this  account  he  apprenticed 
Henry,  at  ten  years  of  age,  to  a  fanner  in  town.  The 
boy  was  very  competent  for  one  of  his  years ;  and  as 
willing  to  work  as  he  was  competent.  His  reputation 
in  town  as  an  unusually  bright  boy,  fond  of  books  and 
school,  was  already  established.  At  six  he  was  a  good 
reader,  and  appropriated  whatever  reading  matter  came 
within  his  reach. 

He  was  eight  years  old  when  the  wife  of  the  Hon. 
Nehemiah  Eastman  called  him  into  her  house,  as  he  was 
going  by,  and  inquired  how  well  he  could  read.  "I  can 
read  pretty  well,"  he  answered  in  a  shy,  modest  way. 
Expressing  her  pleasure  on  hearing  that,  she  added 
words  of  encouragement,  and  finally  said,  "  Come  here 


248  TUKXIXG  POINTS. 

to-morrow,  and  I  will  see  you  further  about  it."  Henry 
promised.  When  he  was  leaving  she  gave  him  some 
clothes,  of  which  he  stood  in  pressing  need,  for  which 
the  delighted  boy  thanked  her  heartily. 

Early  the  next  morning  Henry  reported  himself  at 
the  Eastman  mansion,  where  he  was  received  with  ten- 
der interest ;  for  the  family  knew  of  his  love  of  learning, 
ami  desired  to  encourage  him.  Mrs.  Eastman  said  to 
him  :  — 

"I  had  intended  to  give  a  Testament  to  some  good 
boy  who  would  be  likely  to  make  a  proper  use  of  it. 
You  tell  me  that  you  can  read ;  now  take  this  book,  and 
let  me  hear  you." 

Henry  took  the  book,  which  was  a  copy  of  the  New 
Testament,  and  read  a  whole  chapter  to  her.  She 
commended  his  reading  as  being  excellent  for  a  boy  so 
young,  and  advised  him  to  employ  all  the  time  he  could 
in  acquiring  knowledge. 

"  Now  carry  home  the  Testament,"  she  said,  "  and 
when  you  have  read  it  through  it  shall  be  yours." 

Henry  was  almost  overcome  by  his  good  fortune ;  and 
he  ran  home  more  nimbly  than  he  came,  to  report  to  his 
mother.  In  seven  days  he  read  the  whole  of  the  Testa- 
ment, and  then  appeared  at  the  Eastman  residence  again 
to  communicate  the  fact. 

"  Why,  so  soon  ! "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Eastman.  "  It 
cannot  be !  But  let  me  try  you." 

Henry  consented  to  be  examined,  and  Mrs.  Eastman 
proceeded  to  question  him.  A  few  inquiries  satisfied 
her  that  he  had  read  the  book  thoughtfully  and  well. 

"  Now  the  book  is  yours,"  she  added  kindly.  "  Take 
it  home  and  follow  its  counsels,  and  keep  on  learning, 
and  you  will  never  be  sorry  for  it." 


HENRY   WILSON.  249 

A  happier  boy  never  lived  than  Henry  was  when  he 
hurried  home  with  the  first  book  he  had  ever  owned. 
The  family  rejoiced  with  him  in  acquiring  so  valuable  a 
treasure. 

Two  years  later  his  father  apprenticed  him  to  a 
farmer  on  the  following  conditions.  He  was  to  serve 
until  he  became  twenty-one,  receiving  board,  clothes,  and 
one  month's  schooling  annually ;  and,  on  becoming  of 
age,  should  receive  six  sheep  and  a  yoke  of  oxen.  Those 
were  days  of  want  and  hardship,  and  Henry's  experi- 
ence was  on  that  line.  The  farmer  was  kind,  but  a 
hard-working  man.  He  was  obliged  to  work  hard, 
early  and  late,  in  order  to  wring  out  of  his  farm  a 
scanty  livelihood.  Up  at  four  o'clock  in  the  morning, 
and  still  at  work  when  the  evening  shades  prevailed, 
was  his  ordinary  rule ;  and  Henry  was  expected  to  con- 
form substantially  to  the  family  routine.  For  a  boy  of 
ten  years  to  enter  upon  such  a  life,  on  a  rugged  farm  in 
the  ''Granite  State,"  was  to  accept  a  rough,  bitter  ex- 
perience. But  Henry  was  not  the  boy  to  flinch ;  and  he 
never  found  any  time  to  repine  over  his  lot ;  for  when 
he  was  not  at  work  he  had  a  book  in  his  hand ;  and 
reading  proved  so  great  a  solace,  tliat  he  scarcely  stopped 
to  think  of  his  hard  lot. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Eastman  kept  their  eye  upon  the  young 
farmer,  and  encouraged  him  to  improve  every  moment 
he  could  command  in  self-improvement.  They  had 
quite  a  library,  and  gave  Henry  full  liberty  to  explore 
it.  He  could  visit  it  at  any  time  he  pleased,  and  carry 
away  as  many  books  as  he  desired  to  read.  Judge 
Whitehouse  also  invited  him  to  use  his  library.  That 
Henry  made  good  use  of  these  privileges  is  evident 


250  TURNING  POINTS. 

from  the  fact  that  when  he  reached  his  majority  he  had 
read  a  thousand  volumes,  including  all  the  numbers  of 
the  North  American  Review,  published  at  that  time. 
He  was  obliged  to  make  heavy  drafts  upon  night-time 
to  accomplish  this  feat,  but  it  was  the  highest  pleasure 
to  him  ;  and  his  physical  constitution  was  able  to  endure 
the  strain.  At  the  same  time  he  never  shirked  work  on 
the  farm.  His  guardian  called  him  a  good  worker; 
and  both  he  and  his  wife  became  strongly  attached  to 
Henry. 

On  attaining  to  his  majority  he  received  the  promised 
six  sheep  and  yoke  of  oxen ;  and  he  sold  them  immedi- 
ately for  eighty-four  dollars.  Up  to  this  time  all  the 
money  he  ever  had  did  not  amount  to  two  dollars,  and 
he  had  never  spent  more  than  one  dollar.  Of  course 
eighty-four  dollars  was  a  large  amount  for  him  to 
possess,  and  he  regarded  it  in  that  light,  and  was  dis- 
posed to  husband  his  resources. 

Here  he  was,  a  young  man  of  twenty-one  years,  not 
having  attended  school  more  than  twelve  months  in  his 
life,  and  yet  possessing  more  information  on  general  sub- 
jects than  any  young  man  of  his  age  known  to  the  oldest 
inhabitant.  With  a  capital  of  eighty-four  dollars  and 
the  clothes  on  his  back,  where  should  he  go  ?  AVhat 
could  he  do  ?  He  had  pondered  these  questions  for 
several  years,  and  had  decided  not  to  be  a  New  Hamp- 
shire farmer.  So  much  was  settled.  He  had  learned 
somewhat  of  the  boot-and-shoe  business  in  Massachu- 
setts ;  and  he  finally  decided  to  go  to  that  State,  and  he 
settled  in  Natick.  Soon  he  was  engaged  in  making 
brogans  in  that  wide-awake  town,  at  satisfactory  re- 
muneration. He  was  pleased  with  the  business,  and 


HENRY    WILSON.  251 

displayed  much  tact  for  a  beginner.  His  success  was 
assured  at  the  start.  His  intelligence  and  industry 
were  just  suited  to  make  him  an  expert  cobbler,  which 
he  became  Avithin  a  few  months,  earning  as  high  wages 
as  any  workman  in  the  shop. 

Here  we  approach  the  turning-point  of  his  life.  His 
habit  of  reading  continued,  and  companions  considered 
him  a  bookworm.  Employees  in  the  shoe  business 
of  that  day  were  not  very  intelligent  as  a  class.  They 
had  little  to  do  with  books  or  what  they  represent. 
For  this  reason  Henry  Wilson  was  an  exceptional  young 
man  among  them.  Nor  did  he  parade  his  knowledge 
before  them,  for  he  was  modest  and  somewhat  retiring. 

There  was  a  lyceum  in  the  village,  supported  by  the 
older  and  wiser  citizens,  and  Henry  enjoyed  listening  to 
the  debates.  Often  a  line  of  argument  was  suggested 
to  him ;  but  he  lacked  courage  to  join  in  the  debate. 
He  had  no  confidence  in  his  ability  to  express  his 
thoughts  on  his  feet.  So  for  months  he  was  a  quiet 
listener,  all  the  while  wishing  he  could  engage  in  the 
discussion. 

At  length  one  evening  an  unusual  interest  was  awak- 
ened by  the  debate,  when,  as  usual,  the  discussion  was 
thrown  open  to  the  audience.  Young  Wilson  arose 
with  fear  and  trembling,  but  soon  was  surprised  to  find 
how  easily  and  happily  he  could  express  his  thoughts. 
Others  were  surprised  too.  That  the  modest,  shy  young 
man  could  debate  as  well  as  he  could  make  brogans 
surprised  them.  If  his  maiden  effort  was  so  efficient 
and  noble,  what  capabilities  he  may  develop  in  the 
future,  was  the  thought  of  many.  Friends  congratu- 
lated him  on  every  hand.  A  revelation  had  come  to 


252  TUliNING   POINTS. 

them.  His  pastor  called  upon  him  to  express  his  grati- 
fication, and  to  advise  him  to  go  up  higher.  That 
Wilson  was  cheered  and  encouraged  by  such  kind  ex- 
pressions of  his  friends  need  scarcely  be  said.  More 
than  that,  he  was  profoundly  stirred ;  and  from  that 
time  began  to  think  of  a  higher  and  nobler  future. 
He  continued  to  delight  his  friends  in  the  lyceum ; 
and  many  citizens  attended  these  debates  on  purpose 
to  hear  him.  His  pastor,  in  consequence,  urged  him 
to  seek  an  education ;  and  his  wise  counsels  exerted  an 
uplifting  influence  upon  the  young  debater.  Subse- 
quently he  returned  to  New  Hampshire,  and  attended 
school  at  Strafford,  Wolfborough,  and  Concord,  making 
decided  progress  in  knowledge.  Nor  did  his  onward 
and  upward  course  slacken  from  that  day.  He  re- 
turned to  Natick  to  become  a  public  man. 

His  early  habit  of  reading  had  stored  his  mind  with 
knowledge,  and  at  the  same  time  inspired  thought  and 
purpose,  so  that  when  the  lyceum  debate  brought  him 
to  his  feet,  almost  before  he  dreamed  that  he  had  in- 
tellectual resources  from  which  to  draw,  no  one  was 
more  surprised  than  himself  at  his  success.  It  was  the 
lyceum  that  settled  his  destiny.  All  his  previous  acqui- 
sitions might  never  have  been  of  any  service  to  the 
public,  but  for  its  appeal  to  his  dormant  ability  as  a 
debater.  But  for  that  he  would  have  continued,  with- 
out doubt,  to  manufacture  brogans,  an  intelligent,  indus- 
trious, and  honored  citizen,  but  not  a  public  benefactor. 

The  anti-slavery  question  was  uppermost  when  he 
returned  to  Natick,  and  he  took  strong  ground  against 
slavery  in  public  addresses.  He  was  earnest,  logical, 
and  eloquent  in  his  public  efforts. 


1IENRY   WILSON.  253 

In  1840  the  Whig  party  secured  his  services  for  the 
Harrison  campaign,  and  he  delivered  over  forty  speeches 
in  Massachusetts.  Everywhere  he  was  introduced  as 
the  "Natick  Cobbler."  That  year  he  was  elected  to  the 
Massachusetts  House  of  Representatives  ;  also  in  1841. 
He  served  in  the  State  Senate  from  1843  to  1849.  In 
1845  he  was  instrumental  in  organizing  a  State  conven- 
tion to  oppose  the  admission  of  Texas  into  the  Union 
as  a  slave  State ;  and  he,  with  the  poet  Whittier,  were 
chosen  delegates  to  bear  a  large  petition  to  Congress 
against  the  proposed  annexation.  In  1846  he  offered  a 
vigorous  resolution  in  condemnation  of  slavery  in  the 
Legislature,  and  supported  it  with  a  speech  that  held 
the  members  spellbound.  In  1848  he  Avas  a  delegate 
to  the  Whig  National  Convention  in  Philadelphia ;  and 
when  that  body  rejected  some  anti-slavery  resolutions 
that  a  member  presented,  he  made  a  stirring  speech, 
protesting  against  the  action,  and  then  withdrew. 

On  his  return  he  purchased  the  Republican,  a  Boston 
newspaper,  and  ably  conducted  it  for  two  years  as  the 
organ  of  the  Free  Soil  party.  He  was  chairman  of  the 
Free  Soil  State  Committee  from  1849  to  1852.  In  1850 
he  Avas  elected  again  to  the  State  Senate,  and  was  presi- 
dent of  that  body  the  two  years  following.  He  presided 
over  the  National  Free  Soil  Convention  at  Pittsburg,  Pa., 
in  1852,  and  was  made  chairman  of  the  national  com- 
mittee of  the  party.  As  chairman  of  the  State  Free 
Soil  Committee  he  was  instrumental  in  electing  George 
S.  Boutwell  governor  of  Massachusetts,  by  a  union  of 
Free  Soilers  and  Democrats,  in  1851,  and  sending 
Charles  Sumner  and  Robert  Rantoul  to  the  United 
States  Senate. 


254  TURNING  POINTS. 

He  was  the  Free  Soil  candidate  for  his  Congressional 
district  in  1852,  and  was  defeated  by  ninety-three  votes 
only,  when  the  majority  against  the  Free  Soil  party  in 
the  district  was  nearly  eight  thousand.  In  1853  he  was 
a  member  of  the  State  Constitutional  Convention,  and 
proposed  the  provision  to  admit  colored  men  into  the 
militia  organization.  In  the  same  year  he  was  the  Free 
Soil  candidate  for  governor,  and  was  defeated.  In  1855 
he  acted  with  the  American  party,  and  was  elected  to 
the  United  States  Senate,  to  succeed  Edward  Everett. 
He  was  a  delegate  to  the  National  Convention  of  the 
American  party  in  that  year ;  and  when  the  convention 
adopted  a  platform  that  favored  slavery,  he  shook  the 
dust  from  his  feet,  and  withdrew. 

The  American  party  was  overthrown  by  its  pro-slavery 
action,  and  Mr.  Wilson  became  prominent  in  organizing 
the  Republican  party  on  the  basis  of  opposition  to  the 
extension  of  slavery.  He  took  that  ground  in  the 
United  States  Senate,  and  soon  after  he  became  a  mem- 
ber of  that  body,  delivered  a  rousing  speech  against 
the  Fugitive  Slave  Act,  and  for  the  abolition  of  slavery 
in  the  District  of  Columbia.  On  May  22,  1856,  Preston 
S.  Brooks  struck  down  Charles  Sumner  in  the  Senate 
chamber ;  and  the  next  day  Wilson  stood  up  in  his  seat 
fearlessly,  and  denounced  the  act  as  "  brutal,  murderous, 
and  cowardly."  For  this  noble  speech  the  would-be 
assassin,  Brooks,  challenged  him  to  fight  a  duel.  Wil- 
son declined  to  fight,  and  seized  the  opportunity  to 
denounce  the  practice  of  duelling  as  "barbarous  and 
unlawful,"  at  the  same  time  assuring  the  Southern 
barbarian  that  he  believed  in  self-defence. 

During  the  Civil  War  he  was  one  of  the  most  patri- 


HENRY    WILSON.  255 

otic  and  efficient  members  of  Congress.  Although  with- 
out eloquence  or  elegance,  as  a  debater  he  stood  without 
a  peer  in  the  Senate.  The  nation's  history,  civil  and 
political,  was  at  his  tongue's  end,  so  that  he  excelled 
nearly  all  of  the  members  in  citing  facts,  that  are  stub- 
born things.  He  proved  himself  a  power  on  the  most 
important  questions  of  that  stormy  time ;  and  as  chair- 
man of  the  Committee  on  Military  Affairs,  his  services 
became  indispensable  in  conquering  the  Rebellion.  Once 
before  the  outbreak  of  Secession,  a  Southerner  referred 
to  Northern  laborers  as  "  mudsills."  On  the  spur  of 
the  moment  Wilson .  sprang  to  his  feet,  and,  in  one  of 
the  most  impassioned  and  powerful  speeches  he  ever 
made,  rebuked  the  insolence  of  the  member.  In  that 
speech  was  the  following  paragraph :  — 

"  Poverty  cast  her  dark  and  chilling  shadow  over  the 
home  of  my  childhood ;  and  Want  was  there  sometimes, 
an  unbidden  guest.  At  the  age  of  ten  years,  to  aid  him 
who  gave  me  being  in  keeping  the  gaunt  spectre  from 
the  hearth  of  the  mother  who  bore  me,  I  left  the  home  of 
my  boyhood,  and  went»to  earn  my  bread  by  daily  labor." 

In  1871  he  was  elected  vice-president  of  the  United 
States,  on  the  ticket  with  General  Grant.  On  March  3, 
1873,  he  resigned  his  seat  in  the  United  States  Senate, 
which  he  had  occupied  eighteen  years,  to  become  the 
president  of  that  body.  Thirty-eight  years  from  the  time 
he  reached  his  majority,  and  went  out  into  the  world 
with  six  sheep,  a  yoke  of  oxen,  and  a  fertile  brain  for 
capital,  he  was  called  to  preside  over  this  august  body 
of  thinkers  and  doers,  as  vice-president  of  the  Repub- 
lic !  A  brilliant  record  for  a  village  debating-society  to 
assure  ! 


256  TURNING  POINTS. 

Mr.  Wilson  died  in  Washington,  Nov.  22,  1873,  of 
apoplexy.  A  grateful  people  sorrowed  over  his  de- 
parture, as  a  patriot,  statesman,  and  Christian.  He 
made  a  public  profession  of  religion  in  Natick,  after 
he  had  become  distinguished  as  a  United  States  Sena- 
tor. He  wrote  many  pamphlets,  made  many  speeches, 
and  published  several  books  on  the  great  public  ques- 
tions and  history  of  his  time ;  but  in  none  of  them  did 
he  find  more  satisfaction  than  in  his  "  Testimonies 
of  American  Statesmen  and  Jurists  to  the  Truths  of 
Christianity."  These  truths  were  the  strength  of  his 
heart  when  worldly  honors  faded  away;  and  he  went 
down  to  his  grave  bearing  witness  to  the  power  of  the 
gospel  of  Christ. 

He  was  a  great  man.  His  countrymen  recognized 
in  him  the  greatness  of  a  self-made  statesman.  He 
achieved  success  by  his  own  unaided  efforts,  and  the 
fact  evoked  the  admiration  of  all.  Few  public  men 
of  our  country  were  ever  more  respected  and  honored 
in  life  than  he,  or  more  lamented  in  death. 


SAMUEL    FINLEY    BREESE    MORSE. 


SAMUEL   FINLEY  BBEESE  MORSE.  257 


XXXII. 

SAMUEL  FINLEY  BREESE  MORSE. 

THE  REMARK  THAT  LED  HIM  TO  INVENT  THE 
TELEGRAPH. 

THE  telegraph  is  one  of  the  most  valuable  agencies 
of  modern  civilization,  and  its  originator  was  one  of  the 
world's  greatest  benefactors.  When  we  know  that  a 
fire  in  the  headquarters  of  the  largest  telegraph  com- 
pany in  New  York  City  stopped  the  business  of  the 
world  for  a  day,  we  can  form  some  idea  of  the  value  of 
the  telegraph  to  mankind.  Take  it  away  from  modern 
society,  with  all  the  improvements  it  has  wrought,  and 
we  should  be  put  back  a  century  in  our  progress.  It  is 
worth  our  while  to  know  how  a  man  became  the  origi- 
nator of  so  valuable  an  agency.  The  knowledge  will 
convince  us  that  supernatural  wisdom  arranges,  guides, 
and  controls  the  instrumentalities  of  human  progress. 

S.  F.  B.  Morse,  the  inventor  of  the  telegraph,  was  the 
son  of  a  distinguished  Congregational  clergyman,  the 
Rev.  Jedediah  Morse  of  Charlestown,  Mass.  He  was 
born  in  that  city,  April  27,  1791:  In  his  boyhood  he 
was  bright  and  aspiring.  A  precocious  scholar,  full  of 
life,  especially  fond  of  art,  he  awakened  high  expecta- 
tions in  the  hearts  of  his  parents.  That  he  possessed 
talents  of  a  high  order,  especially  on  certain  lines,  was 


258  TUENING  POINTS. 

obvious  to  all.  And  he  loved  study.  He  desired  a 
liberal  education  as  much  as  his  parents  desired  that  he 
should  have  it.  Hence,  he  devoted  himself  to  prepara- 
tion for  college  with  all  his  heart.  There  was  only  one 
drawback  in  his  school-work.  He  had  a  talent  for  draw- 
ing and  painting,  and  the  temptation  to  gratify  it  often 
interfered  with  his  school- work ;  so  his  father  thought. 
He  could  produce  an  almost  perfect  likeness  of  his 
schoolmates,  and  draw  animals  and  landscapes  with 
equal  skill.  But  his  father  considered  this  an  interrup- 
tion to  his  studies.  He  did  not  design  that  he  should  be 
an  artist.  He  was  not  going  to  college  for  any  such 
purpose. 

At  twelve  years  of  age  Samuel  was  fitted  for  college, 
and  entered  Yale,  at  New  Haven,  Conn.  This  fact  alone 
speaks  well  for  the  boy.  He  must  have  been  a  brilliant 
scholar  to  have  been  qualified  to  enter  that  institution 
at  such  an  early  age.  No  wonder  that  high  hopes  of 
his  future  were  cherished  !  But  in  college  he  had  no 
anxious  father  to  watch  over  him,  and  see  that  his  love 
of  art  might  not  compromise  his  love  of  science.  With- 
in a  short  period  he  began  to  indulge  his  propensity  for 
drawing  and  painting  to  the  neglect  of  his  studies. 
He  maintained  that  he  devoted  only  his  leisure  time 
to  art;  but  it  is  evident  that  President  Dwight  thought- 
otherwise,  because  he  administered  a  severe  reprimand 
to  him  on  one  occasion,  and  advised  him  to  abandon 
drawing  and  painting  entirely.  That  he  did  not  follow 
that  advice  implicitly  is  evident  from  the  fact  that  he 
wrote  to  his  father  as  follows,  in  his  senior  year :  "  My 
price  is  five  dollars  for  a  miniature  on  ivory,  and  I  have 
engaged  three  or  four  at  that  price.  My  price  for 


SAMUEL   FINLEY  P.KEESE  MORSE.  259 

profiles  is  one  dollar,  and  everybody  is  willing  to  engage 
me  at  that  price."  His  father  concluded,  no  doubt,  after 
receiving  this  intelligence,  that  what  is  bred  in  the  bone 
cannot  be  readily  eliminated. 

Electricity  was  a  revelation  to  him.  Professor  Day's 
lectures  on  that  subject  filled  him  with  wonder.  He 
became  enthusiastic  in  the  study  of  that  science.  He 
wrote  to  his  father,  "Professor  Day's  lectures  are  very 
interesting.  They  are  upon  electricity.  He  has  given 
\is  some  very  fine  experiments.  The  whole  class,  taking 
hold  of  hands,  formed  the  circuit  of  communication ;  and 
we  all  received  the  shock  apparently  at  the  same  mo- 
ment. I  never  took  an  electric  shock  before.  It  felt 
as  if  some  person  had  struck  me  a  slight  blow  across 
the  arm."  As  we  shall  learn  in  the  sequel,  Samuel  never 
forgot  that  "  all  received  the  shock  apparently  at  the 
same  moment ;  "  and  the  fact  became  prominent  in  his 
electrical  studies  a  quarter  of  a  century  thereafter. 

There  is  no  doubt  that  his  father  strongly  hoped  that 
he  would  choose  one  of  the  learned  professions,  possibly 
the  clerical,  after  he  was  graduated.  But  he  was  not  so 
inclined.  He  must  be  a  painter.  Nothing  else  would 
satisfy  him.  His  father  took  in  the  situation,  and  con- 
sented that  he  should  become  an  artist.  He  was  placed 
under  the  tuition  of  Washington  Allston,  and  accom- 
panied him  to  London  in  1811,  where  he  became  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Koyal  Academy.  He  remained  in  London 
four  years,  Tinder  the  instruction  of  Allston  and  Benja- 
min West,  making  rapid  progress  in  his  art.  In  1813 
he  completed  a  colossal  "  Dying  Hercules,"  and  ex- 
hibited it  in  the  Royal  Academy;  and  it  "was  classed 
by  critics  as  among  the  first  twelve  paintings  there." 


260  TUKXIlfG  POINTS. 

He  made  a  plaster  model  to  assist  him  in  his  painting, 
which  received  the  gold  medal  of  the  Adelphi  Society 
of  Arts.  England  was  at  war  with  our  country  at  that 
time,  and  the  gift  of  the  medal  was  cited  to  show  with 
what  impartiality  American  artists  were  treated  in  the 
mother  country. 

Morse  returned  to  this  country  in  1815,  and  settled  in 
Boston,  with  a  view  of  pursuing  historical  painting,  to 
which  he  had  given  close  attention  in  London.  He  was 
disappointed,  however,  in  patronage  received.  All  visit- 
ors admired  his  "  Judgment  of  Jupiter,"  but  few  of 
them  became  his  patrons.  Failing  to  receive  support  in 
historic  painting,  he  turned  his  attention  to  portraits,  and 
in  the  next  two  years  painted  many  in  the  larger  towns 
of  New  Hampshire  and  Vermont.  In  1818  he  opened 
a  studio  in  Charleston,  S.C.,  and  there  had  more  orders 
than  he  could  fill.  At  one  time  he  had  one  hundred  and 
fifty  orders  in  advance.  He  wrote  to  his  old  teacher, 
Washington  Allston,  "  I  am  painting  from  morning 
until  night,  and  have  continual  applications."  He 
painted  a  portrait  of  James  Monroe,  who  was  presi- 
dent of  the  United  States  at  that  time,  for  the  city 
government  of  Charleston ;  and  it  was  hung  in  the 
City  Hall. 

In  1823  he  settled  in  New  York  City,  where  he 
continued  his  art  of  portrait-painting.  He  executed 
a  portrait  of  Lafayette  for  the  city  of  New  York,  and 
another  of  Fitz-Greene  Halleck  for  the  Astor  Library. 
His  work  was  highly  valued,  and  he  was  ranked  with 
the  best  artists  known.  He  became  president  of  the 
"  New  York  Drawing  Association  ; "  also  of  the  "  Na- 
tional Academy  of  the  Arts  of  Design ; "  and,  still  later, 


SAMUEL  FINLEY  BllEESE  MOUSE.  261 

of  "The  Sketch  Club."  He  also  delivered  a  course  of 
popular  lectures  on  "  The  Fine  Arts "  before  the 
New  York  Athenaeum,  for  which  he  received  great 
praise. 

In  1829  he  visited  Europe  again,  for  the  purpose 
of  pursuing  art-studies  in  France  and  Italy.  He 
was  abroad  three  years,  during  which  time  he  formed 
the  acquaintance  of  some  of  the  most  renowned  paint- 
ers, and  added  largely  to  his  knowledge  of  the  old 
masters. 

It  was  on  his  homeward  voyage,  in  1832,  that  the 
current  of  his  life  was  turned.  Hitherto  the  artist 
only  was  seen  in  his  career.  His  thoughts,  words,  and 
deeds  were  all  about  art.  True,  he  had  not  forgotten 
Professor  Day's  lectures  on  electricity  at  Yale,  nor 
those  of  Professor  Dana  on  electro-magnetism  in  New 
York  City,  and  he  loved  to  discuss  those  subjects  with 
professionals  ;  but  he  had  no  thought  of  being  other 
than  an  artist.  He  was  a  painter,  and  he  expected  to 
live  and  die  in  the.  pursuit  of  art. 

Charles  T.  Jackson  of  Boston  was  on  board  the 
ship  with  him.  He  had  been  studying  electricity  and 
magnetism  in  France.  He  was  just  the  man  to  attract 
Morse.  They  discussed  the  subjects  Jackson  had  been 
studying.  Morse  inquired, 

"  Is  the  velocity  of  electricity  retarded  by  the  length 
of  the  wire  ?  " 

"  Dr.  Franklin's  experiments  proved  that  electricity 
passes  instantaneously  over  a  wire  of  any  length,"  was 
Jackson's  answer. 

"  Then,"  continued  Morse,  "  if  electricity  can  be  made 
visible  in  any  part  of  the  circuit,  I  see  no  reason  why 


262  TURNING  POINTS. 

intelligence  may  not  be  transmitted  instantaneously  by 
electricity.  If  it  will  go  ten  miles  without  stopping,  I 
can  make  it  go  around  the  globe." 

Here  the  telegraph  was  born.  Morse  had  not  thought 
of  such  a  thing  before.  The  remark  of  Jackson  sug- 
gested the  possibility  to  him.  He  became  completely 
absorbed  in  the  possibility  of  conveying  messages  by 
electricity.  He  went  immediately  to  work,  and  on  the 
voyage  invented  the  "  dot-and-dash  alphabet."  On  ship- 
board he  thought  out  and  planned  essentially  the  electric 
telegraph  as  it  exists  to-day.  The  artist  became  lost  in 
the  inventor.  Painting  was  exchanged  for  electrical 
science.  On  reaching  New  York  he  secured  rooms, 
and  proceeded  to  reduce  his  ideas  to  practice.  It  was 
not,  however,  until  Sept.  28,  1837,  that  he  made  appli- 
cation for  a  patent ;  and  three  months  later  petitioned 
Congress  for  an  appropriation  to  build  a  telegraph  line 
from  Washington  to  Baltimore.  His  petition  was  not 
granted.  He  visited  Europe  in  1838,  hoping  to  interest 
the  governments  of  England  and  France  in  the  enter- 
prise ;  but  he  was  unsuccessful.  After  about  a  year's 
absence  he  returned,  as  he  said,  "  without  a  farthing  in 
my. pocket,  and  have  to  borrow  even  for  my  meals  ;  and, 
even  worse  than  this,  I  have  incurred  a  debt  of  rent  by 
my  absence."  But  he  had  faith  in  the  telegraph,  and 
worked  on ;  sometimes  going  without  food  for  twenty- 
four  hours,  —  too  proud  to  beg,  and  too  plucky  to  surren- 
der. Nor  did  he  cease  to  petition  Congress ;  and  was 
rewarded  for  his  perseverance  by  an  appropriation  of 
thirty  thousand  dollars  to  establish  a  telegraph-line 
from  Washington  to  Baltimore.  Four  years  of  want, 
toil,  and  wearing  anxiety  had  elapsed  since  he  returned 


SAMUEL  F1NLEY  BREESE  MORSE.  263 

disheartened  from  Europe ;  and  now  his  cup  of  joy  was 
overflowing,  and  a  fortune  was  assured. 

In  1844  his  first  telegraph-line  was  completed,  con- 
necting Washington  and  Baltimore.  The  first  message 
transmitted  was,  "  WHAT  HATH  GOD  WROUGHT  ! "  Its 
success  electrified  the  country.  Wonder  and  gladness 
burst  forth  from  sea  to  sea.  Morse  had  become  a  great 
man,  one  of  the  noblest  benefactors  of  his  age.  Honor- 
ary degrees  from  colleges,  gold  medals  from  literary 
societies,  badges  of  honor  from  foreign  nations,  reso- 
lutions of  respect  from  public  bodies,  and  emblems  of 
greatness  from  kings  and  emperors,  were  lavished  upon 
him ;  and  no  one  doubted  the  propriety  of  the  grateful 
tribute. 

We  need  not  prolong  the  story  of  the  telegraph ;  to 
tell  it  all  would  require  a  volume  —  a  marvellous  out- 
come of  a  casual  remark  on  the  packet-ship !  Morse 
became  a  rich  man,  as  well  as  an  honored  one ;  and  he 
died  in  New  York  City,  April  2,  1872,  vastly  more  cele- 
brated than  he  would  have  been  if  he  had  continued 
painting  all  his  days.  One  of  his  biographers  says :  — 

"  As  no  other  means  of  communication  has  ever  per- 
formed such  extensive  or  important  functions  as  the 
electric  telegraph  is  now  doing,  we  cannot  help  regard- 
ing its  discovery  as  the  greatest  step  towards  the  uni- 
versal brotherhood  of  nations  that  mankind  has  yet 
taken.  Most  truly  has  it  annihilated  space,  and  thus 
joined  the  hands  of  all  peoples  on  the  face  of  the  globe 
in  one  grand,  magnetic  impulse  towards  a  higher  civili- 
zation, which  instant  interchange  of  deeds  or  ideas  is 
silently  working  out  its  promised  fulfilment.  Before 
this  discovery  Archimedes'  boast  fades  into  insignifi- 


264  ZUBXIXG  POINTS. 

cance.  With  a  spark  Professor  Morse  has  not  only 
moved  the  world,  but  has  illuminated  it  without  other 
fulcrum  than  his  own  superior  intelligence.  This,  in 
point  of  fact,  is  the  point  d'appui  of  the  nineteenth 
century." 


DAVID   LIVINGSTONE.  265 


XXXIII. 

DAVID  LIVINGSTONE. 

THE  WAR  IN  CHINA  THAT  FORCED  HIM  TO  BECOME 
THE  AFRICAN  EXPLORER. 

DAVID  LIVINGSTONE,  tile  brave  African  explorer,  won 
the  confidence  and  admiration  of  his  fellow-men  in  all 
lands,  by  his  self-sacrificing  labors  for  science  and  a 
benighted  people.  Born  in  poverty  and  obscurity,  he 
rose  by  his  own  persistent  efforts  to  a  post  of  honor, 
trust,  and  influence,  that  made  his  name  immortal. 
How  he  came  to  explore  the  darkest  continent  on  earth 
is  a  point  well  worth  our  knowing.  The  wonder-work- 
ing providence  of  God  becomes  marvellous  when  we 
study  the  philosophy  of  so  grand  a  life. 

David  Livingstone  was  born  at  Blantyre,  near  Glas- 
gow, March  19,  1813.  His  parents  were  highly  re- 
spected people,  descendants  of  an  ancestry  with  a  stain- 
less name,  but  so  poor  as  to  make  the  struggle  for 
existence  a  hardship.  In  the  introduction  of  one  of  his 
published  works,  Livingstone  speaks  as  follows  of  the 
ancestral  family:  — 

"  One  great-grandfather  fell  at  the  battle  of  Culloden, 
fighting  for  the  old  line  of  kings ;  and  one  grandfather 
was  a  small  farmer  in  Ulva,  where  my  father  was  born. 


266  TURNING  POINTS. 

It  is  one  of  that  cluster  of  the  Hebrides  thus  spoken  of 
by  Sir  Walter  Scott :  - 

'  And  Ulva  dark,  and  Colonsay, 
And  all  the  groups  of  islets  gay, 
That  guard  famed  Staffa  round.' 

"  Our  grandfather  was  intimately  acquainted  with  all 
the  traditionary  legends  which  that  great  writer  has 
since  made  use  of  in  the  '  Tales  of  a  Grandfather,'  and 
other  works.  As  a  boy,  I  remember  listening  with  de- 
light ;  for  his  memory  was  stored  with  a  never-ending 
stock  of  stories,  many  of  which  were  wonderfully  like 
those  I  have  since  heard  while  sitting  by  the  African 
evening  fires.  Our  grandmother,  too,  used  to  sing  Gaelic 
songs,  some  of  which,  as  she  believed,  had  been  com- 
posed by  captive  Highlanders  languishing  among  the 
Turks." 

David's  father  was  a  grocer  in  a  small  way,  and 
his  income  was  altogether  too  limited  to  meet  the  ex- 
penses of  his  growing  family.  In  consequence,  David 
was  put  into  a  factory  as  a  "  piecer  "  when  he  was  ten 
years  old,  where  he  was  obliged  to  work  from  six  o'clock 
in  the  morning  until  eight  o'clock  at  night.  Of  course 
his  was  a  hard  life,  and  in  some  respects  his  experience 
was  a  cruel  one;  but  he  made  the  best  of  the  circum- 
stances, and  toiled  without  a  murmur.  He  loved  to 
read  at  that  time  especially  scientific  works,  and  books 
of  travel.  His  father  wanted  he  should  read  such  books 
as  "  The  Cloud  of  Witnesses,"  "  Boston's  Fourfold  State," 
and  Wilberforce's  "Practical  Christianity."  And  he 
flogged  David  once  for  refusing  to  read  the  last-named 
work.  He  did  read  some  volumes  of  that  class,  but  his 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE.  267 

taste  for  travels  and  scientific  works  led  him  in  another 
direction.  Perhaps  his  father's  persistency  in  requiring 
him  to  read  only  religious  works  awakened  his  opposi- 
tion to  that  kind  of  reading  for  the  time  being.  A  little 
later  on  he  read  "  The  Philosophy  of  Religion,"  and 
"  The  Philosophy  of  a  Future  State,"  by  Thomas  Dick, 
which  confirmed  him  in  his  opinion  "that  religion  and 
science  are  not  hostile,  but  friendly,  to  each  other  ;  "  and 
also  guided  him  into  a  true  Christian  experience. 

David's  thirst  for  knowledge  was  so  great  that  he 
managed  to  find  time  to  read  and  study,  even  after  he 
became  a  mill-operative.  He  devoted  from  eight  to 
twelve  o'clock  at  night  to  self-improvement.  Week 
after  week,  and  month  after  month,  he  followed  this 
programme,  notwithstanding  that  his  mother  and  other 
friends  warned  him  of  the  danger.  Eighteen  hours 
for  work  and  study,  and  only  six  for  rest !  The  fact 
shows  that  the  boy  was  impelled  by  great  love  of  learn- 
ing to  pay  the  highest  price  for  his  acquisitions. 

He  began  the  study  of  Latin  at  this  time.  Purchas- 
ing Ruddiman's  "  Rudiments  of  Latin  "  with  a  portion 
of  his  first  week's  earnings,  he  sat  down  to  the  study 
of  that  ancient  language  with  a  will ;  and  he  mastered  it 
in  an  incredibly  brief  period.  He  would  even  study  or 
read  when  at  work.  He  would  arrange  a  book  on  the 
spinning-jenny,  so  that  he  could  take  an  occasional 
glance  at  it ;  and  in  that  way  he  treasured  many  bright 
thoughts,  and  learned  many  good  lessons. 

At  nineteen  years  of  age  he  was  promoted  to  cotton- 
spinner,  where  he  received  much  higher  wages.  By 
laboring  eight  months  of  the  year  he  could  earn  enough 
to  pay  his  way  through  the  winter  at  a  medical  school 


268  TURNING  POINTS. 

in  Glasgow.  That  school  was  nine  miles  away,  and  he 
walked  the  whole  distance  daily,  and  returned.  He  was 
expecting  to  become  a  missionary  to  China,  where  a 
medical  education  would,  be  a  great  acquisition  to  him ; 
and  his  enthusiasm  was  equal  to  the  emergency.  At 
twenty-three  he  had  laid  by  enough  to  pay  for  a  college 
course,  which  he  entered  upon  with  all  his  heart  He 
bent  all  his  energies  to  the  studies  before  him ;  and  no 
one  ever  got  more  out  of  a  given  curriculum  than  he 
did.  After  he  was  graduated  he  spent  two  or  three 
years  more  in  the  study  of  theology  and  taking  his 
medical  degree.  Thus,  well-equipped  mentally  and 
morally  for  missionary  labor,  he  was  prepared  to  enter 
upon  his  life-work. 

Here  the  hand  of  Providence  guided  him  in  a  way  he 
knew  not.  He  had  expected  to  go  as  a  missionary  to 
China.  All  his  preparation  and  plans  had  been  directed 
with  that  end  in  view.  But  there  was  war  in  China. 
The  country  was  in  a  ferment  of  excitement  and  trouble, 
and  the  friends  of  missions  thought  it  would  be  pre- 
sumptuous for  him  to  go  thither  in  such  unfavorable 
circumstances.  He  abandoned  that  mission.  But  where 
should  he  go  ?  His  daring  spirit  could  not  rest  in  in- 
action now  that  it  was  prepared  to  soar.  The  Rev. 
Robert  Moffat  was  laboring  in  Africa  with  favorable 
results.  His  missionary  labors  were  challenging  the 
attention  of  Christendom,  and  young  Livingstone  was 
captivated  by  the  narrative.  He  resolved  to  go  to 
Africa,  and  applied  to  the  London  Missionary  Society 
for  an  appointment.  He  received  his  appointment  after 
having  passed  a  satisfactory  examination.  After  spend- 
ing a  short  time  in  a  missionary  training-school  at 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE.  269 

Essex,  he  sailed  for  Africa  in  1840,  and  there  com- 
menced a  Christian  work  that  is  now  famous  the  world 
over. 

It  was  fortunate  for  him,  Africa,  and  the  world,  that 
the  "  Opium  War  "  in  China  turned  him  from  that  field 
of  labor  to  the  "  Dark  Continent."  No  mere  human 
wisdom  did  it ;  it  was  that  infinite  knowledge  that  com- 
passes all  lands  and  ages,  and  knows  just  where  to  guide 
each  consecrated  agent  whose  talents  will  accomplish 
the  greatest  good  for  the  greatest  number.  The  result 
proved  that  there  was  great  gain  in  turning  the  Chris- 
tian hero  from  the  "  flowery  kingdom  "  to  the  darkest 
nation  on  earth.  God  knew  Africa,  and  he  knew  his 
devoted  servant  —  that  one  was  a  match  for  the  other ; 
and  so  the  change  is  satisfactorily  explained. 

Immediately  Livingstone  began  to  make  explorations. 
By  careful  examination  he  satisfied  himself  that  the 
way  to  evangelize  Africa  was  to  keep  pushing  out 
farther  and  farther ;  planting  new  stations,  and  leaving 
the  old  ones  to  be  conducted  by  native  missionaries. 
On  this  idea  he  based  all  his  future  efforts.  He  pene- 
trated the  wilderness  to  Lake  Ngami,  and  was  the  first 
white  man  to  gaze  upon  its  waters.  With  remarkable 
fortitude,  and  heroic  faith  and  endurance,  he  worked 
his  way  to  the  great  falls  of  Zambesi.  He  discovered 
and  explored  Lake  Nyassa  on  the  east  coast,  experien- 
cing hairbreadth  escapes  almost  daily,  and  treasuring 
knowledge  for  the  advancement  of  science  and  religion. 
He  married  a  daughter  of  Missionary  Moffat.  In  1856 
he  returned  to  his  native  land  with  his  wife. 

In  1858  he  returned  to  Africa,  to  plunge  still  farther 
into  its  mysterious  domain.  With  the  tenderness  of  a. 


270  TURNING  POINTS. 

woman,  and  tlie  heart  of  a  lion,  lie  prosecuted  liis  great 
mission,  accompanied  by  his  wife.  At  length,  in  the 
month  of  April,  Mrs.  Livingstone  was  prostrated  with 
fever,  and  died  within  a  few  days  ;  and  she  "  was  buried 
under  the  shadow  of  a  giant  baobab-tree." 

In  his  wonderful  explorations  he  became  lost  to  the 
world  at  large,  and  no  tidings  were  received  from  him 
for  so  long  a  time,  that  the  people  of  his  native  land 
concluded  he  was  dead,  or  else  had  become  a  captive 
among  the  barbarous  tribes.  Hence  the  famous  Stanley 
expedition  to  search  for  the  lost  missionary  and  ex- 
plorer. Stanley  was  the  correspondent  of  the  New 
York  Herald  in  Spain,  where  civil  war  was  raging. 
Mr.  Bennett,  proprietor  of  the  Herald,  was  in  Paris, 
to  which  place  he  summoned  Stanley  by  telegram. 
Beaching  Paris  in  the  night,  he  proceeded  directly  to 
Mr.  Bennett's  room  at  the  Grand  Hotel,  and  knocked. 

"Come  in,"  responded  Mr.  Bennett,  who  was  in  bed. 
Stanley  entered. 

"  Who  are  you  ?  " 

"  My  name  is  Stanley." 

"  Ah,  yes  ;  sit  down.  Where  do  you  think  Living- 
stone is  ?  " 

"Really,  sir,  I  have  no  idea." 

"  Do  you  think  he  is  alive  ?  " 

"  He  may  be,  and  he  may  not." 

"  Well,  I  think  he  is  alive ;  and  I  am  afraid  he  may 
be  in  want.  So  I  intend  that  you  shall  go  to  him. 
Take  whatever  you  need  for  yourself  and  for  him. 
Go  as  you  please,  and  do  as  you  please.  But  find 
Livingstone." 

"  Yes,  sir  ;  but  the  cost,"  Stanley  suggested, 


DAVID  LIVINGSTONE.  271 

"  How  much  will  it  be  ?  " 

"  I  am  afraid  it  will  be  over  twelve  thousand  dollars." 

"Very  well.  Draw  a  thousand  pounds  now.  When 
it  is  gone,  another  thousand  ;  when  it  is  gone,  another ; 
when  it  is  gone,  another;  and  so  on  as  long  and  as  often 
as  necessary.  Hut  find  Livingstone." 

The  thrilling  story  of  Stanley's  adventures  we  need 
not  repeat.  Everybody  knows  it.  He  did  find  Living- 
stone. 

David  Livingstone  died  near  Ujiji,  Africa,  May  4, 
1873.  His  remains  were  taken  to  his  native  land, 
where  a  nation  of  mourners  consigned  them  to  a  rest- 
ing-place in  Westminster  Abbey.  His  casket  bore  the 
following  inscription :  — 

"DAVID   LIVINGSTONE, 
BORN  AT  BLANTYRE,  LANARKSHIRE,  SCOTLAND, 

19th  MARCH,  1813  ; 

DIED  AT  ILALA,  CENTRAL  AFRICA, 

4th  MAY,  1873." 

His  biographer,  Drake,  pays  the  following  tribute  to 
the  memory  of  the  great  explorer  :  — 

"  Funeral  anthems  sometimes  bear  an  exulting  resem- 
blance to  songs  of  triumph ;  and  never  was  the  likeness 
more  marked  than  when,  on  April  18,  1874,  Westmin- 
ster Abbey  received  the  dust  of  Livingstone.  The  glory 
of  the  dead  hero  was  pure.  His  scutcheon  could  be 
held  up  fearlessly  in  the  face  of  the  world ;  the  most 
malignant  scrutiny  would  fail  to  discover  a  blot  on  that 
stainless  surface.  He  had  fought  no  battles  but  those 
of  religion  and  civilization,  had  spilt  no  blood,  and  had 
dried  tears  instead  of  causing  them.  .  ,  .  The  career 


272  TURNING  POINTS. 

of  Livingstone  shines  with  a  clear,  splendid  light. 
'Jesus,  my  king,  my  life,  my  all,'  wrote  the  great  ex- 
plorer, as  a  few  days  after  his  parting  with  Stanley, 
he,  on  the  last  birthday  save  one  that  earth  had  to 
offer  him,  renewed  the  vow  of  his  youth,  '  I  again 
dedicate  my  whole  self  to  thee.'  Well  did  his  life 
bear  out  the  spirit  of  his  pledge  —  so  well  that,  were 
there  space  for  generous  emotion  in  the  grave,  the 
most  princely  coffin  resting  beneath  the  pavement  in 
the  Abbey  would  .have  been  proud  to  welcome  that  of 
the  Scottish  traveller  to  a  place  beside  it." 


PETER    COOPER. 


PETER   COOPER.  273 


XXXIV. 

PETER  COOPER. 

THE  CHOICE  OP  A  BUSINESS  THAT  CHANGED  HIM  FROM 
A  "ROLLING-STONE"  TO  BENEFACTOR. 

THE  ancestors  of  Peter  Cooper  were  highly  respected 
people,  and  figured  in  the  Revolutionary  War.  His 
maternal  grandfather  was  an  alderman  in  New  York 
City  at  one  time,  and  was  quartermaster  during  the 
struggle  of  the  colonies  for  independence.  His  pater- 
nal grandfather  served  in  the  Continental  army,'  and 
his  father  also ;  the  latter  becoming  lieutenant.  With 
hundreds  of  others,  these  patriots  were  paid  in  Conti- 
nental money  that  became  utterly  worthless,  plunging 
them  into  poverty. 

At  the  time  Peter  was  born,  Feb.  12,  1791,  his  father 
was  having  a  hard  time  with  want.  He  was  a  hatter 
by  trade ;  but  the  business  was  poor,  and  the  country 
was  in  an  unsettled  condition.  Public  affairs  had  not 
recovered  from  the  effects  of  the  protracted  war  for 
freedom.  In  these  circumstances,  Mr.  Cooper's  tact  and 
industry  were  taxed  to  support  his  family. 

As  soon  as  Peter  "  was  as  tall  as  a  table,"  he  began  to 
assist  his  father  in  making  hats.  He  was  obliged  to 
work  instead  of  going  to  school.  The  first  thing  he  did 
was  to  pull  the  hair  out  of  rabbit-skins.  In  time  he  wa.s 


274  TURNING  POINTS. 

promoted  to  some  other  and  more  important  branch  of 
the  business.  By  the  time  he  was  twelve  years  of  age 
he  could  make  every  part  of  a  hat,  and  do  it  as  well  as 
his  father  could.  He  possessed  the  knack  of  adjusting 
things,  and  could  do  it  with  a  hat  as  readily  as  with 
anything  else. 

But  the  business  could  not  support  the  family,  and 
Mr.  Cooper  was  forced  to  seek  some  other  employment. 
He  removed  to  Peekskill,  and  started  a  brewery.  He 
manufactured  ale,  and  Peter  delivered  the  kegs.  This 
pursuit  proved  a  failure  also ;  at  least  it  could  not  keep 
the  wolf  of  hunger  from  the  door.  He  abandoned  the 
occupation  and  removed  to  Catskill,  where  he  resumed 
the  hat  business  on  a  small  scale ;  at  the  same  time 
engaging  in  the  manufacture  of  bricks.  Peter  was 
employed  "  in  carrying  and  handling  the  bricks  for 
the  drying  process."  But  neither  hat  nor  brick  brought 
success  to  the  hard-working  father.  Another  move 
was  made,  this  time  to  Brooklyn,  where,  strange  to 
say,  Mr.  Cooper  tried  the  brewery  business  again. 
Another  failure,  of  course,  with  its  disappointments 
and  vexations,  leaving  the  family  more  destitute  than 
before. 

It  was  now  1808,  and  Peter  was  seventeen  years  of 
age,  old  enough  to  learn  a  trade  and  earn  his  daily 
bread.  He  had  been  to  school  only  by  days  and  half- 
days,  just  as  circumstances  directed,  the  whole  amount 
of  his  schooling  being  less  than  a  year.  Of  course  he 
was  ignorant,  uncouth,  and  awkward.  But  he  was  ap- 
prenticed to  John  Woodward,  a  carriage-builder,  and 
remained  with  him  until  he  reached  his  majority.  He 
proved  a  very  apt  pupil  in  this  industrial  school,  and 


PETER   COOPER.  275 

produced  one  invention  that  was  of  great  value  to  his 
employer.  It  was  a  machine  for  mortising  the  hubs  of 
carriages.  He  was  so  faithful,  efficient,  and  true  as  an 
apprentice,  that  Mr.  Woodward  treated  him  with  great 
consideration,  and  offered  to  set  him  up  in  business 
when  he  became  twenty-one. 

Peter  did  not  accept  the  offer  of  his  employer,  but 
went  to  Hempstead,  L.T.,  and  engaged  in  the  manufac- 
ture of  a  machine  for  shearing  cloth.  At  the  end  of 
three  years  he  had  saved  enough  money  to  purchase  the 
right  to  manufacture  and  sell  the  machine  for  the  State 
of  New  York.  At  once  he  commenced  to  manufacture 
the  machine,  and  the  business  proved  very  lucrative. 
The  war  with  Great  Britain  was  in  progress;  and  this 
improved  his  business,  and  made  it  very  successful. 
He  was  nrnch  aided,  also,  by  an  ingenious  device  of 
his  own,  that  added  great  value  to  the  machine.  But 
the  close  of  the  war  destroyed  his  business,  and  he 
found  himself  obliged  to  try  another  occupation.  He 
converted  his  shop  into  a  factory  for  the  manufacture 
of  furniture  ;  but  the  venture  was  unsuccessful. 

In  the  meantime  he  married  Sarah  Bedel  of  Hemp- 
stead,  who  made  him  a  noble  wife  for  fifty-six  years. 
With  her  approval  and  encouragement  he  removed  to 
New  York,  and  opened  a  grocery  store.  In  this  enter- 
prise he  was  partially  successful,  and  added  a  little  to 
the  capital  he  accumulated  by  the  sale  of  his  cloth- 
shearing  machine.  But  he  was  not  satisfied  with  the 
business,  and  resolved  to  try  another. 

We  are  reminded  here  of  the  old  maxim,  "A  rolling- 
stone  gathers  no  moss."  Up  to  this  time  Peter  Cooper 
appeared  to  be  a  "  rolling-stone."  He  had  tried  several 


276  TURNING  POINTS. 

occupations;  but  on  tlie  whole  they  had  not  proved 
successful.  But  now  his  sharp  observation  and  inven- 
tive genius  were  busied  in  working  out  a  new  problem. 
The  article  of  glue  was  a  very  useful  one,  but  only  the 
poorest  quality  was  manufactured.  Cooper  studied  the 
market,  and  saw  that  there  was  a  wide  opening  for 
the  manufacture  of  a  nice  quality  of  glue,  and  that  the 
demand  would  be  constantly  increasing.  Besides,  the 
materials  of  which  it  was  made  were  of  the  cheapest 
quality,  and  the  profits  very  large.  Canvassing  the 
whole  subject  carefully,  pro  and  con,  he  decided  to  go 
into  the  glue  business ;  and  leased  a  tract  of  land  be- 
tween Twenty-First  and  Twenty -Fourth  Streets,  on 
which  to  erect  a  factory.  In  a  few  months  he  was  a 
well-established  glue  manufacturer. 

This  venture  proved  to  be  the  best  choice  of  his  life. 
He  ceased  to  be  a  "  rolling-stone."  From  the  time  he 
engaged  in  this  business  his  success  was  phenomenal. 
He  labored  diligently,  studied  economy,  improved  his 
method  of  making  glue,  and  moved  on  without  hin- 
drance. At  first  he  went  about  with  a  team  to  gather  the 
hoofs  of  slaughtered  cattle,  without  asking  whether  it 
compromised  his  dignity  or  not.  It  was  necessary  for 
him  to  do  it,  and  that  was  enough.  He  thought  it  was 
always  proper  to  do  necessary  things.  His  business 
and  profits  grew  to  large  proportions  in  a  few  years. 
This  time  his  selection  of  a  business  was  fortunate 
and  permanent.  There  was  great  wealth  in  the  manu- 
facture of  glue  as  long  as  he  might  continue  it.  It 
provided  him  with  money  to  use  in  other  enterprises,  as 
well  as  for  philanthropic  purposes.  All  his  life  long 
he  had  reason  to  bless  the  day  that  he  risked  his  all 


PETER   COOPER.  277 

On  glue,  and  started  out  to  make  it.  It  was  the  turn- 
ing-point of  his  career. 

The  lease  of  the  land  on  which  his  factory  stood 
having  expired,  he  purchased  ten  acres  011  Maspeth 
Avenue,  Brooklyn,  on  which  he  erected  a  glue  factory, 
planned  f  Or  a  much  larger  business ;  and  there  it  stands 
to-day.  Out  of  it  flowed  a  deep,  wide  stream  of  profits 
year  after  year,  to  enable  him  to  undertake  great  works 
of  philanthropy. 

Without  interrupting  his  manufacture  of  glue,  in 
1828  he  purchased  three  thousand  acres  of  land  within 
the  city  limits  of  Baltimore.  He  had  been  studying 
the  iron  industry  of  our  country  for  several  years,  and 
he  saw  how  it  might  be  wonderfully  improved ;  and  he 
bought  the  aforesaid  land  for  that  purpose,  and  on  it 
erected  the  Canton  Iron  Works  —  the  first  great  enter- 
prise of  the  kind  to  develop  the  iron  industry  of  our 
land.  The  Baltimore  and  Ohio  Railroad  was  in  process 
of  construction  at  the  time,  and  some  mechanics  said 
that  its  many  and  short  turns  would  prevent  the  use  of 
a  locomotive.  Cooper  thought  otherwise,  and  he  went 
to  work,  devised  and  constructed  the  first  locomotive 
ever  made  in  the  United  States ;  and  it  worked  well,  and 
saved  the  railroad  company  from  bankruptcy.  After  a 
few  years  he  sold  his  Canton  Iron  Works  at  a  great 
advance,  and  received  part  of  his  pay  in  stock  at  forty- 
four  dollars  a  share,  and  sold  afterwards  at  two  hundred 
and  thirty  dollars. 

He  returned  to  New  York,  and  erected  an  iron  factory, 
which  he  afterwards  converted  into  a  rolling-mill,  in 
which  he  proved  that  anthracite  coal  could  be  used 
successfully  in  the  puddling  of  iron.  "In  1845  he 


278  TURNING  POINTS. 

built  three  blast-furnaces  in  Phillipsburg,  near  Easton, 
Pa.,  which  were  the  largest  then  known ;  and,  to  control 
the  manufacture  completely,  purchased  the  Andover 
iron-mines,  and  built  a  railroad  through  a  rough  coun- 
try for  eight  miles,  in  order  to  bring  the  ore  down 
to  the  furnaces  at  the  rate  of  forty  thousand  tons  a 
year.  Later  the  entire  plant  was  combined  into  a  cor- 
poration known  as  the  Ironton  Iron  Works.  At  these 
works  the  first  wrought-iron  beams  for  fireproof  build- 
ings were  made." 

In  the  laying  of  the  Atlantic  cable,  Mr.  Field  found 
his  ablest  and  most  persistent  helper  in  Peter  Cooper. 
When  others  lost  heart,  and  advised  to  abandon  the 
enterprise,  Cooper  stood  by  to  encourage  him  to  per- 
severe until  victory  was  won.  They  rejoiced  together 
in  the  signal  triumph  that  was  finally  achieved. 

But  it  was  in  the  wide  field  of  benevolence  and 
philanthropy  that  Mr.  Cooper  endeared  himself  to 
mankind.  He  constantly  experienced  the  inconven- 
ience and  mortification  of  being  without  education. 
Business  had  been  the  most  profitable  school  he  ever 
attended ;  and  he  had  got  much  culture  out  of  it,  as  his 
excellent  public  addresses  on  political,  economic,  and 
moral  questions  abundantly  proved.  But  he  claimed 
that  want  of  early  education  had  hampered  him  con- 
tinually ;  and  he  wanted  every  poor  boy  and  girl  to  have 
a  better  chance  than  he  did  in  his  early  life.  For  this 
reason  he  studied  and  planned  to  use  his  money  for  the 
highest  good  of  the  rising  generation.  He  came  to  the 
conclusion  that  industrial  education  for  the  class  situ- 
ated as  he  was  in  his  youth  would  be  altogether  the 
most  practical  and  useful.  Hence  "  The  Cooper  Union 


PETER   COOPER.  279 

for  the  Advancement  of  Science  and  Art."  The  corner- 
stone was  laid  in  1854 ;  and  five  years  thereafter  the 
whole  property  was  transferred  to  the  city.  It  costs 
sixty  thousand  dollars  annually  to  support  it ;  and  this 
amount  is  realized  from  rents  and  income  for  portions 
of  the  building  designed  for  business  purposes.  Mr. 
Cooper  provided  two  Imndred  thousand  dollars  to  sup- 
port its  reading-room  and  library,  and  three  hundred 
thousand  more  for  other  purposes.  In  all,  nearly  a 
million  and  a  half  dollars  was  given  to  this  institution. 

Before  he  founded  the  Cooper  Union  he  was  foremost 
in  a  movement  for  the  better  instruction  of  New  York 
children  in  the  public  schools.  He  was  president  of 
the  association  organized  for  that  purpose,  which  finally 
grew  into  the  present  board  of  education.  He  held 
offices  of  trust  in  the  city  government  at  different  times, 
as  councilman  and  alderman,  and  gave  his  time  and 
money  largely  to  every  movement  to  relieve  suffering 
humanity. 

William  0.  Stoddard  says  of  him :  "  Mr.  Cooper  was, 
by  general  acknowledgment,  the  '  first  citizen '  of  the 
municipality  he  had  served  so  well.  He  was  not  a 
politician,  but  any  public  meeting  of  a  general  nature, 
of  public  trouble,  or  of  popular  rejoicing,  was  hardly 
complete  without  him  upon  the  platform ;  and  his 
entrance  was  sure  to  be  recognized  by  a  round  of  ap- 
plause. The  plain,  old-fashioned  buggy  in  which  he 
drove  around  the  city  was  a  chariot  before  which  all 
other  vehicles  turned  out.  The  children  all  grew  up 
to  know  him,  and  to  reverence  his  good  gray  head ; 
and  the  long  evening  of  his  busy  life  was  spent  in 
honor  and  in  peace." 


280  TURNING  POINTS. 

A  grand  outcome  of  a  life  that  began  in  poverty 
and  obscurity !  Turned  from  a  "  rolling-stone "  to  a 
permanent,  abiding  factor  in  the  commercial,  educa- 
tional, and  Christian  institutions  of  a  great  metropolis. 

Perhaps  the  study  of  such  a  life  as  Cooper's  is  the  more 
profitable  on  account  of  the  many  changes  in  its  early 
years.  For  the  facts  show  that  the  underlying  qualities 
of  a  noble  character  will  finally  assert  themselves,  and 
application,  observation,  tact,  and  industry  make  their 
way.  Cooper  never  attempted  to  make  a  close  bargain 
with  time  for  the  sake  of  a  "  short  cut "  to  success.  He 
devoted  all  the  time  necessary  to  each  enterprise.,  and 
his  patience  was  liberally  rewarded. 


WILLIAM  LEARNED  MAECT.  281 


XXXV. 

WILLIAM  LEARNED  MARCY. 

THE  TEACHER'S  WISDOM   THAT    SAVED    HIM    FOR  CABI- 
NET OFFICER. 

THE  Marcy  family  of  Southbridge,  Mass.,  were  very 
respectable  people,  though  their  advantages  were  quite 
limited.  Both  father  and  mother  possessed  a  good  share 
of  natural  ability,  and  their  sound  common-sense  was 
noticeable.  They  favored  education,  although  they  pos- 
sessed little  of  it  themselves.  Perhaps,  for  this  reason, 
they  were  all  the  more  anxious  that  their  children  should 
enjoy  the  best  school  privileges  the  time  and  place  af- 
forded. Here  William  Learned  was  born,  Dec.  12, 1786. 

About  the  time  that  William  began  to  attend  school, 
the  family  removed  to  Charlton,  Mass.,  where  he  de- 
veloped into  a  bad  boy.  He  was  headstrong,  disobe- 
dient, rough,  profane,  and  ugly.  That  is,  he  was  so 
considered.  That  he  was  not  understood,  subsequent 
events  abundantly  proved.  Neither  his  parents  nor  his 
teachers  understood  him.  Parental  patience  became 
exhausted,  and  William  was  told  that  he  was  the  worst 
boy  in  town.  Every  day  he  was  reminded  of  his  bad- 
ness, at  home  and  elsewhere.  Teachers  told  him  that 
he  was  bad  clear  through,  and  that  he  was  going  to  ruin 
as  fast  as  he  could.  He  was  often  in  trouble  with 


282  TURNING   POINTS. 

schoolmates,  and  they  rehearsed  his  badness  to  his  face. 
He  was  told  this  story  so  much,  that  it  was  fairly  dinged 
into  him,  until  he  believed  it  as  really  as  parents  or 
neighbors.  He  concluded  that  he  was  a  bad  boy,  and 
never  could  be  anything  else ;  and  so  accepted  the  sit- 
uation as  a  matter  of  course. 

In  school  he  was  no  better  than  he  was  at  home ;  in 
some  respects  more  turbulent.  He  was  just  as  deter- 
mined to  have  his  own  way  there  as  he  was  elsewhere. 
The  result  was  that  he  was  several  times  temporarily 
expelled  from  school.  The  school  committee  arrived  at 
the  conclusion  that  it  would  be  better  for  teacher  and 
school  to  expel  him  for  his  first  offence  at  the  opening 
of  each  term.  All  this  while  the  boy  was  misunder- 
stood. Teachers  could  master  the  most  difficult  prob- 
lems in  mathematics,  but  they  could  not  solve  this 
incorrigible  pupil.  It  was  a  great  relief  when  they 
could  turn  him  out  of  school.  His  reputation  for  bad- 
ness became  town-wide.  Most  people  thought  his  doom 
was  sealed,  and  they  had  no  sympathy  to  waste  upon 
him. 

Finally  a  teacher  of  rare  wisdom  came  to  town  when 
Marcy  was  fourteen  or  fifteen  years  of  age.  Before  he 
opened  the  winter  term,  one  of  the  committee  said  to 
him,  "  You  will  have  a  scholar  by  the  name  of  Marcy,  — 
the  worst  boy  in  town  by  all  odds,  —  and  the  sooner  you 
expel  him  the  better.  That  is  what  the  teachers  have 
been  obliged  to  do  with  him,  and  sooner  or  later  you  will 
have  to  do  it.  I  advise  you  to  do  it  at  his  first  offence." 

The  teacher  made  no  reply,  but  evidently  had  his  own 
thoughts  and  kept  his  own  counsel.  Of  course  he 
watched  the  Marcy  boy  with  peculiar  interest.  He  ex- 


WILLIAM  LEARNED  MARCY.  283 

pected  at  any  moment  to  witness  some  outburst  of  iniq- 
uity on  the  part  of  the  young  desperado ;  but  he  did  not. 
He  took  pains  to  speak  with  him  kindly,  and  to  encour- 
age him  in  his  studies:  A  whole  week  having  passed 
without  any  outbreak  by  the  young  rebel,  the  teacher 
whispered  to  him  one  day,  "  I  would  like  to  have  you 
come  to  my  room  this  evening  :  will  you  come  ?  "  AVil- 
liam  assented,  and  went ;  not  with  fear  and  trembling, 
for  the  teacher's  pleasant  manner  assured  him  that  peace, 
rather  than  war,  was  meant. 

"  I  asked  you  to  call  to-night  because  I  want  to  talk 
with  you  about  your  winter's  work.  I  am  very  much 
pleased  with  the  manner  you  have  entered  upon  the 
work  of  the  term ;  indeed,  I  am  happily  disappointed. 
For  I  was  told  that  you  had  been  expelled  from  school, 
and  that  I  should  have  to  do  the  same.  But  I  am  thor- 
oughly convinced  that  you  are  misunderstood,  and  that 
you  can  satisfy  every  citizen  in  town  this  "winter  that 
they  do  not  know  you.  Now,  I  shall  be  so  glad  to  help 
you  in  every  way  I  can,  that  I  wanted  to  talk  the  matter 
over,  particularly  with  regard  to  the  progress  you-  can 
make  this  winter.  You  have  the  ability  to  lead  the 
school ;  and  I  do  not  say  it  to  flatter  you :  I  honestly 
believe  it." 

William's  heart  was  touched.  That  he  was  somewhat 
surprised  by  such  a  greeting  we  need  scarcely  say ;  but 
the  teacher  had  won  him.  He  assured  the  schoolmaster 
that  he  desired  to  make  progress  in  his  studies,  and  that 
he  would  do  the  best  he  could.  With  tears  in  his  eyes 
he  bade  his  wise  instructor  good-night,  and  returned  to 
his  home  with  a  giant  resolve  in  his  soul.  The  teacher 
let  his  parents  into  the  secret  at  once,  but  the  commu- 


284  TURNING  POINTS. 

nity  in  general  was  ignorant  of  what  was  going  on. 
They  waited  for  a  fracas  and  expulsion.  Week  after 
week  they  waited,  inquiring,  Avondering,  and  surmising. 
But  William  Marcy  was  still  a  pupil  in  school,  studious, 
obedient,  exemplary,  and  in  love  with  his  teacher.  What 
did  it  all  mean  ?  It  was  almost  too  good  to  be  true. 
The  fact  could  not  be  gainsaid,  however.  And  thus  he 
continued  to  the  end  of  the  term,  perfect  in  his  deport- 
ment, and  the  best  scholar  in  school.  What  is  more  and 
better,  his  teacher,  who  was  a  college  student,  had  in- 
spired within  him  the  determination  to  secure  a  liberal 
education.  His  future  career  was  mapped  out. 

That  the  wisdom  of  a  good  teacher  saved  young 
Marcy  from  ruin  is  as  clear  as  noonday.  That  it  turned 
his  steps  into  the  path  of  knowledge  and  rectitude 
is  equally  clear.  But  for  him  the  talented  boy  would 
have  lived  on  misunderstood,  despised,  and  kicked,  until 
prison  or  gallows  terminated  a  worthless  career.  What 
follows  will  show  how  great  a  life  one  humble  counsel- 
lor gave  to  the  world  by  his  study  of  human  nature. 

Young  Marcy  was  encouraged  by  his  parents  to  pre- 
pare for  college,  and  all  friends  and  neighbors  rejoiced 
in  this  new  departure.  With  almost  unparalleled  appli- 
cation he  devoted  himself  to  his  studies,  and  entered 
Brown  University,  Providence,  K.I.  His  college  course 
was  all  that  could  be  desired  for  industry,  progress,  and 
good  behavior.  He  was  graduated  in  1808  with  honors, 
and  immediately  proceeded  to  the  study  of  law  in  Troy, 
N.Y.  Here  he  was  admitted  to  the  bar,  and  opened 
an  office  in  that  town.  He  was  having  a  fair  practice 
when  the  War  of  1812  with  Great  Britain  opened, 
in  which  his  patriotism  led  him  to  participate.  He 


WILLIAM  LEARNED  MARCY.  285 

offered  his  services  to  the  governor  of  New  York,  and 
was  sent  in  command  of  a  company  to  the  French 
Mills  on  the  Northern  frontier.  Here,  on  the  night 
of  Oct.  23,  1812,  he  surprised  and  captured  the  Cana- 
dian forces  stationed  at  St.  Regis.  These  were  the 
first  prisoners  taken  in  the  war;  and  theirs  was  the 
first  flag  captured.  The  exploit  contributed  largely 
to  his  fame.  When  his  time  of  enlistment  expired 
he  returned  to  the  practice  of  law,  and  soon  after 
became  the  proprietor  and  editor  of  the  Troy  Budget, 
which  he  made  an  organ  of  the  Democratic  party,  with 
which  he  was  identified. 

In  1821  he  became  adjutant-general  of  the  State 
militia,  and  subsequently  comptroller  of  the  State,  an 
important  office  in  that  day.  In  1829  he  was  appointed 
an  associate  justice  of  the  Supreme  Court  of  New  York, 
and  as  such  presided  over  many  famous  trials ;  notably 
that  of  the  alleged  murderers  of  William  Morgan.  He 
continued  on  the  bench  until  he  was  elected  to  the 
United  States  Senate  in  1831.  He  ranked  high  as  a 
senator.  He  was  a  strong  thinker,  ready  debater,  and 
honest  and  earnest  in  defence  of  any  measure  that  he 
supported.  His  first  speech  was  a  reply  to  Henry  Clay ; 
and  soon  after  he  replied  to  Daniel  Webster's  speech  on 
the  apportionment.  He  resigned  in  1833  to  become  the 
governor  of  New  York,  which  office  he  filled  six  years. 
In  1839  he  was  defeated  by  William  H.  Seward.  As 
governor  he  was  regarded  with  great  favor  by  the  peo- 
ple, and  his  popularity  was  well  earned. 

He  was  one  of  the  foremost  friends  of  James  K. 
Polk  ;  and  no  man  ever  rendered  better  service  than  he 
did  in  the  political  campaign  that  preceded  his  election. 


286  TURNING   POINTS. 

On  taking  his  seat,  President  Polk  made  Mr.  Marcy  his 
secretary  of  war ;  in  which  office  he  proved  himself  a 
statesman.  The  Mexican  War  was  waged  during  his 
term  of  service,  and  his  conduct  of  affairs  was  con- 
sidered able  and  honorable,  notwithstanding  that  the 
two  victorious  generals  in  that  war,  Scott  and  Taylor, 
were  Whigs.  There  was  some  friction  between  them ; 
but,  on  the  whole,  Marcy's  administration  was  wise  and 
efficient.  In  settling  the  "  Oregon  boundary  question," 
much  credit  was  conceded  to  him.  He  was  active  in 
securing  the  tariff  legislation  of  184G.  All  the  while- 
he  took  the  pro-slavery  ground  of  his  party,  and  ad- 
vocated non-interference. 

He  was  foremost,  also,  in  securing  the  election  of 
Franklin  Pierce  for  president  in  1853 ;  and  President 
Pierce  made  him  his  secretary  of  state,  in  which  posi- 
tion he  exhibited  his  "ability  as  a  writer,  statesman, 
and  diplomatist."  He  had  the  courage  of  his  convic- 
tions when  difficult  questions  demanded  settlement,  but 
was  always  courteous,  thoughtful,  and  patriotic. 

At  the  close  of  the  Pierce  administration  he  returned 
home  with  health  somewhat  impaired,  fully  resolved  to 
engage  no  further  in  public  life.  He  had  served  the 
public  for  about  a  half-century,  into  which  he  had 
crowded  a  great  amount  of  labor,  and  surely  he  was 
entitled  now  to  the  rest  and  quiet  of  private  life. 
Only  four  months  had  elapsed,  however,  wrhen  a  ser- 
vant stepped  into  his  library  one  evening,  and  found 
him  dead  in  his  chair.  An  open  volume  lay  before 
him,  showing  that  he  passed  away  very  suddenly,  when 
engaged  in  looking  up  some  question  of  law  or  states- 
manship. 


WILLIAM  LEARNED  MAItCY,  287 

Return  now  to  the  little  town  of  Charlton,  where  he 
was  a  constant  menace  to  the  family  and  neighborhood, 
until  a  wise  teacher  turned  him  into  the  way  of  honor 
and  success,  and  mark  the  contrast !  A  short  record  of 
youthful  folly;  and  a  long  record  of  manhood,  power, 
and  greatness  !  A  more  telling  illustration  of  the  truth 
that  the  "  noblest  study  of  man  is  man  "  is  not  recorded. 
It  appeals  to  every  parent  and  instructor  of  the  young 
to  master  the  most  difficult  of  all  tasks,  —  to  know  a 
boy. 


288  TUliXIXG  I'OIXTti. 


XXXVI. 

LELAND   STANFORD. 

THE    RAILWAY     SCHEME     THAT     BROUGHT     HIM     WEALTH 
AND    FAME. 

ONE  of  the  most  notable  public  men  of  our  country  in 
the  present  century  was  ^eland  Stanford.  The  great 
enterprises  that  he  created  and  worked,  the  immense 
wealth  that  he  accumulated  while  engineering  some  of 
the  most  important  schemes  for  national  prosperity  ever 
undertaken,  and  his  wide  influence  for  education  and 
human  liberty,  give  him  a  prominent  niche  in  history. 

Mr.  Stanford  was  born  in  AVatervliet,  Albany  County, 
N.Y.,  March  9,  1824.  His  father  was  a  farmer  of  influ- 
ence in  the  town,  well-read  for  his  day,  the  friend  of 
religion  and  schools,  and  a  very  practical  citizen.  His 
mother  was  a  woman  of  strong  convictions,  sound  judg- 
ment, and  motherly  to  the  last  degree.  Her  home  was 
her  kingdom,  where  she  ruled  in  love,  having  a  family 
of  seven  sons  and  one  daughter,  under  model  discipline. 
Leland  was  the  fourth  son,  much  more  of  a  scholar  than 
his  brothers,  and  just  as  good  a  worker  on  the  farm. 
He  loved  books  better  than  he  did  farming;  and  yet  he 
performed  every  task  as  if  it  were  the  choice  of  his  heart. 
Of  a  cheerful  disposition,  quick-witted,  and  very  ener- 
getic, he  was  a  capital  boy  to  have  about  the  farm.  At 


LELAND    STANFORD. 


LELAND   STANFORD.  289 

the  same  time,  he  thought  much  about  getting  an  edu- 
cation; and  his  parents  thought  about  it  also,  nothing 
being  in  the  way  but  lack  of  money. 

Leland  had  an  eye  for  business  from  boyhood.  When 
he  was  six  years  old  the  garden  was  overrun  with  horse- 
radish, and  his  father  desired  to  exterminate  it.  So  he 
set  Leland  and  two  of  his  brothers  to.  digging  it  up. 
When  the  work  was  completed,  there  was  quite  a  pile  of 
the  root ;  and  Leland  suggested  that  they  wash  it  nicely, 
and  carry  it  to  Schenectady  for  sale.  The  proposition 
was  considered  a  good  one  by  the  brothers ;  and  in  due 
time  they  realized  six  shillings  for  the  luxury.  Leland's 
share  of  two  shillings  seemed  a  little  fortune  to  him. 
In  his  manhood  he  often  rehearsed  the  incident,  and  its 
influence  in  introducing  him  into  the  world  of  business. 

At  eight  years  of  age  another  enterprise  engaged 
the  young  speculator's  attention.  Chestnuts  were  very 
plenty ;  and  Leland  suggested  that  they  gather  all  they 
could,  store  them  away,  and  wait  for  a  good  time  to  sell 
them  in  the  market  at  Schenectady.  They  gathered 
several  biishels,  and  laid  them  away  until  a  market  was 
found  for  them.  Nor  did  they  have  to  wait  long.  The 
hired  man  returned  from  Schenectady  one  day,  and  an- 
nounced that  chestnuts  were  very  high.  The  boys  were 
elated,  and  lost  no  time  in  transporting  the  chestnuts  to 
market,  for  which  they  realized  twenty-five  dollars.  Le- 
land began  to  think  by  this  time  that  money-making  was 
the  easiest  thing  in  the  world.  His  father  encouraged 
the  boys  in  all  such  enterprises,  as  he  believed  it  pre- 
pared them  for  business  in  the  future. 

At  fifteen  Leland  was  a  large,  stout  boy  of  his  age, 
and  could  do  a  man's  work  on  the  farm.  He  was  also  a 


290  TURNING   POINTS. 

good  scholar,  and  loved  school,  and  desired  an  education 
more  than  ever.  The  schools  were  poor,  and  he  could 
attend  only  in  the  winter;  still,  he  made  decided  prog- 
ress. There  was  an  academy  not  far  away,  to  which  he 
went,  subsequently,  several  terms.  All  the  while  he 
was  hoping  to  be  a  lawyer  some  time  and  somehow  in 
the  future,  though  he  could  not  tell  when  or  how.  There 
was  no  money  in  the  family  for  such  a  purpose. 

Thus  matters  stood  until  he  was  eighteen  years  old, 
tall,  vigorous,  and  powerful.  Then  his  father  purchased 
a  tract  of  woodland  adjoining  his  farm,  which  he  wished 
to  clear,  but  had  no  money  to  pay  for  doing  it.  One 
day  it  occurred  to  him  that  Leland  might  possibly  make 
enough  out  of  the  Avood  and  timber  to  enable  him  to 
study  law.  If  he  could,  he  would  be  glad  to  give  him 
his  time.  So  he  offered  his  strapping  boy  all  the  wood 
and  timber  he  could  get  from  the  woodland,  if  he  would 
clear  it.  Leland  accepted  the  proposition,  and  went  to 
work  with  a  will.  He  could  wield  an  axe  like  an  expert, 
and  not  tire  at  the  hard  work.  He  had  laid  up  money 
enough  to  enable  him  to  hire  several  choppers,  at  twen- 
ty-five cents  a  day,  the  wages  at  that  time.  The  land 
was  cleared  in  the  most  expeditious  manner;  and  Le- 
land sold  his  cordwood  and  timber  to  the  Mohawk  and 
Hudson  Eiver  Railroad,  and  cleared  TWO  THOUSAND  six 
HUNDRED  DOLLARS.  This  settled  the  question  of  his 
becoming  a  lawyer  ;  he  could  pay  the  bills  now. 

He  was  twenty  years  old  when  he  commenced  to  study 
law  in  the  office  of  Wheaton,  Doolittle,  &  Hadley,  in  Al- 
bany, N.Y.  He  applied  himself  closely  to  his  studies, 
and  was  admitted  to  the  bar  in  1849.  Where  should  he 
open  an  office  ?  There  were  more  than  enough  lawyers 


LELAND  STANFORD.  291 

in  Albany  ;  the  profession  was  overcrowded  there.  The 
discovery  of  gold  in  California  had  created  a  furor  of 
excitement,  and  thousands  of  men  were  rushing  to  the 
Golden  Gate.  Three  of  Leland's  brothers  decided  to  go; 
why  should  not  Leland  go  with  them  ?  But  Leland  did 
not  catch  the  gold-fever ;  it  was  the  law-fever  that  had 
taken  hold  of  him,  and  California  was  not  then  an  in- 
viting field  for  a  lawyer.  Besides,  Leland  had  selected 
his  future  wife  from  the  girls  of  Albany,  —  Miss  Jane 
Lathrop ;  and  it  was  a  part  of  his  plan  to  wed  her  as 
soon  as  he  entered  upon  his  law-practice,  or,  at  least,  as 
soon  as  he  had  secured  a  fair  business. 

His  final  decision  was  to  open  a  law-office  in  Port 
Washington,  on  Lake  Michigan.  It  was  a  new,  thriv- 
ing town,  promising  much  in  the  future.  Business  came 
to  him  at  once,  and  he  found  himself  making  money  fast 
enough  to  warrant  establishing  a  home  of  his  own.  So 
he  returned  to  Albany  for  his  bride ;  and  when  he  ap- 
peared at  his  office  again,  he  was  one  of  the  married  men 
of  Port  Washington.  He  was  popular,  too,  both  with 
old  and  young.  Possessed  of  fine  social  qualities,  manly 
in  his  bearing,  with  superior  abilities,  he  commanded  the 
respect  and  confidence  of  the  people.  But  these  pleas- 
ant relations  were  not  to  continue.  One  night  a  fire 
swept  out  of  existence  his  house,  furniture,  library,  all, 
and  he  was  left  almost  a  bankrupt. 

Here  was  a  great  misfortune.  What  did  it  all  mean  ? 
Must  he  leave  Port  Washington  ?  His  brothers  were 
doing  well  in  California,  and  society  had  become  organ- 
ized there ;  and,  on  the  whole,  things  were  inviting.  He 
resolved  to  pack  up  and  go  to  the  "Golden  State." 
Accompanied  by  his  wife,  he  arrived  at  Sacramento, 


292  TURNING  POINTS. 

July  12,  1852.  Instead  of  practising  law,  however,  he 
became  a  merchant.  His  brothers  were  transacting  a 
large  business,  with  branches  here  and  there ;  and  they 
sent  Lelaud  to  Michigan  Bluffs  in  Placer  County,  to 
take  charge  of  their  business  there.  It  was  not  long 
before  Leland's  head  was  rated  by  his  brothers  as 
best  of  all,  and  he  was  taken  into  company  with  them 
on  equal  shares. 

Stanford  invested  in  mining  enterprises  with  great 
success,  in  addition  to  mercantile  business.  He  took 
front  rank,  also,  as  a  sagacious  public  man.  A  majority 
of  the  adventurers  in  California  were  from  the  Slave 
States  then ;  and  when  the  South  threatened  to  secede 
from  the  Union,  they  said  that  California  would  secede 
too.  But  Leland  Stanford  thought  otherwise.  He  was 
opposed  to  human  bondage,  and  abhorred  the  whole 
system  of  American  slavery ;  and  he  stood  by  the 
Union  fearlessly  and  triumphantly.  California  must 
remain  in  the  Union.  The  new  Republican  party  must 
keep  it  in.  Such  were  his  thoughts  and  determination. 
The  Lord  was  leading  him  in  a  way'he  knew  not.  He 
hailed  the  Republican  party  as  timely  and  providential. 
At  the  same  time  the  grandest  thought  of  all  flashed 
upon  .  his  mind  :  "  A  railway  across  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains will  forever  link  the  destinies  of  California  with 
the  United  States ! "  The  thought  was  too  startling 
to  be  tolerated  at  first.  It  suggested  an  impossible 
enterprise  even  to  the  thinker.  But  the  more  he  pon- 
dered it,  the  stronger  it  grew  upon  him.  A  railroad 
across  the  Rockies  !  No  wonder  that  even  he,  the  pro- 
jector, was  staggered  by  the  magnitude  of  the  work  ! 
But  he  was  turning  a  point  now,  rounding  a  mighty 


L  EL  AND  STANFORD.  293 

Curve  in  his  life ;  and  the  angels  of  Imman  progress 
must  have  guided  his  feet,  or  he  would  have  dashed 
them  against  a  stone. 

He  was  made  Republican  governor  of  the  State ;  and 
he  proved  to  be  the  wisest  and  most  popular  of  gov- 
ernors; and  this  fact  was  another  link  in  the  chain  of 
events  that  assured  the  transcontinental  railway.  The 
South  had  fired  on  Sumter,  and  thus  declared  war 
against  the  national  government.  This  was  a  strong 
reason  for  a  railroad  across  the  Rocky  Mountains ;  for 
California  was  so  far  separated  from  the  other  States, 
that  a  foreign  power  might  readily  take  possessien  of  it. 
A  railroad  would  prevent  such  a  calamity.  So  thought 
Lelaud  Stanford  and  a  half-dozen  other  men  who  joined 
their  fortunes  with  his  ;  and  they  moved  forward  with 
their  stupendous  project,  in  spite  of  huge  obstacles. 
Nothing  but  the  most  implicit  faith  in  the  enterprise, 
and  the  most  marvellous  perseverance  to  consummate 
it,  could  have  triumphed  over  the  obstacles.  More  than 
once  Mr.  Stanford  would  have  sold  out  his  interest  in 
the  road  for  twenty-five  cents  on  the  dollar ;  but  he  was 
where  he  had  to  move  forward  or  become  bankrupt ;  and 
he  might  become  bankrupt  by  moving  on.  Providence 
pushed  him  forward.  The  future  of  American  history 
was  wrapped  up  in  the  completion  of  the  railway.  He 
must  go  forward,  and  bless  the  land  and  the  world 
thereby.  The  road  was  completed  in  three  years,  six 
months,  and  ten  days,  a  fact  that  shows  how  little  faith 
the  general  public  had  in  the  enterprise.  For  even 
General  Sherman  said,  "  I  should  be  unwilling  to  buy 
a  ticket  over  it  for  my  grandchildren."  But  God  was 
in  the  gigantic  work  for  the  sake  of  mankind  and  his 


294  TURNING  POINTS. 

cause.  His  Providence  turned  Leland  Stanford  from 
the  law  by  burning  up  his  library ;  and  from  traffic  and 
mining  to  railroad-building,  that  the  greatest  secular 
enterprise  of  modern  times  might  prove  successful. 

The  scene  at  Promontory  Point,  Utah  Territory,  on 
May  10,  1869,  was  described  by  a  newspaper  corre- 
spondent, Mr.  Crofutt,  as  follows  :  "  The  hour  and 
minute  designated  arrived,  and  Leland  Stanford,  presi- 
dent, assisted  by  other  officers  of  the  Central  Pacific, 
came  forward.  T.  C.  Durant,  vice-president  of  the 
Union  Pacific,  assisted  by  General  Dodge  and  others 
of  the  same  company,  met  them  at  the  end  of  the 
rail,  where  they  reverently  paused,  while  Rev.  Dr.  Todd 
of  Massachusetts  invoked  the  divine  blessing.  Then 
the  last  tie,  a  beautiful  piece  of  workmanship  of  Cali- 
fornia laurel,  with  silver  plates  on  which  were  suitable 
inscriptions,  was  put  in  place,  and  the  last  connecting 
rails  were  laid  by  parties  from  each  company.  The  last 
spikes  were  then  presented,  —  one  of  gold  from  Cali- 
fornia; one  of  silver  from  Nevada;  and  one  of  gold, 
silver,  and  iron  from  Arizona.  President  Stanford  then 
took  the  hammer,  made  of  solid  silver,  and  to  the 
handle  of  which  were  attached  the  telegraph  wires; 
and  Avith  the  first  tap  on  the  head  of  the  gold  spike, 
at  twelve,  noon,  the  news  of  the  event  was  flashed 
over  the  continent.  Speeches  were  made  as  each  spike 
was  driven ;  and,  when  all  was  completed,  cheer  after 
cheer  rent  the  air  from  the  enthusiastic  assemblage.'' 

The  completion  of  this  marvellous  railway  made 
Mr.  Stanford  many  times  a  millionnaire.  He  might 
have  accumulated  a  fortune  in  the  mercantile  and  min- 
ing business,  but  the  day  on  which  he  conceived  the 


LELAND   STANFORD.  295 

possibility  of  a  railroad  across  the  continent  changed 
his  future  life  as  a  financier  and  public  benefactor. 

What  should  he  do  with  his  many  millions  ?  He  Avas 
a  generous,  public-spirited  man,  and  he  looked  about  for 
an  answer  to  his  inquiry.  He  had  travelled  in  Europe 
with  his  wife  and  son,  and  the  latter  had  died  suddenly 
at  Florence.  He  resolved  to  found  the  "  Leland  Stan- 
ford, Jr.,  University  of  California,"  as  a  memorial  of 
his  son,  011  the  broadest,  grandest  scale  possible  for  lib- 
eral education.  In  1885  he  appropriated  TWENTY  MIL- 
LION DOLLARS  to  the  object,  after  which  he  added  other 
millions  to  the  fund.  The  corner-stone  was  laid  on  the 
14th  of  May,  1887  ;  and  the  University  was  opened  in 
October,  1891,  with  several  hundred  pupils  of  both  sexes 
in  attendance. 

In  1887  Mr.  Stanford  was  elected  to  the  United  States 
Senate,  where  he  proved  himself  to  be  as  wise  in  legis- 
lation as  he  had  been  in  business.  His  previous  arduous 
labors,  incidental  to  the  great  enterprises  he  carried,  had 
worn  upon  his  health;  and,  ere  he  was  fully  aware  of  the 
inroads  disease  had  made  upon  his  constitution,  he  was 
prostrated ;  and  he  died  at  Palo  Alto,  Cal.,  where  his 
University  is,  on  June  20,  1893,  fifty-nine  years  of  age. 


296  TURNING  POINTS. 


XXXVII. 

MARY   LYON. 

THE    REJECTED    OFFER     OF     MARRIAGE     THAT     LAID    THE 
FOUNDATION    OF    HOLYOKE    SEMINARY. 

THE  little  town  of  Buckland,  Mass.,  gave  to  the  world 
the  most  remarkable  woman  (Mary  Lyon),  all  things 
considered,  who  ever  figured  in  American  history.  Her 
father  was  a  farmer,  a  true-hearted,  Christian  man,  who 
lived  for  God  as  really  as  Abraham  or  Moses  did ;  and 
his  wife  was  simply  another  Sarah,  revised  and  improved 
by  the  progress  of  the  age.  The  father  died  suddenly 
when  Mary  was  four  years  old,  too  young  to  appreciate 
her  loss,  and  yet  old  enough  to  feel  the  great  sorrow  that 
darkened  the  "mountain  home,"  and  to  remember  the 
tender  and  earnest  prayers  of  the  mother  at  the  family 
altar  all  through  the  cold,  bleak  winter  that  followed 
the  father's  demise.  In  womanhood  she  wrote  of  those 
supplications  thus :  "  What  child  "of  that  household 
could  ever  forget  those  extraordinary  prayers  of  the  sor- 
rowing mother  for  the  salvation  of  her  fatherless  chil- 
dren, as  they  were  offered  up  day  by  day  through  all  the 
long,  cold  winter  ?  " 

Mary  Lyon  was  born  on  Feb.  28,  1797,  the  fifth  of 
seven  children.  She  was  a  fine  scholar  from  her  first 
day  in  school  onward.  She  could  commit  a  lesson  in 


MARY  LYON.  297 

an  incredibly  short  time,  and  her  memory  tenaciously 
retained  it.  She  learned  Alexander's  Grammar  in  four 
days,  and  recited  it  to  her  teacher,  the  latter  regarding 
it  as  a  wonderful  feat.  When,  later,  she  took  up  Adams's 
Latin  Grammar,  she  committed  it  in  three  days.  She 
was  in  love  with  learning,  and  the  older  she  grew  the 
more  she  valued  it.  Yet  the  poverty  of  the  family 
made  it  necessary  for  her  to  assist  her  mother  at  house- 
work, and  to  sew,  knit,  and  spin,  all  of  which  she  did 
cheerfully  and  well. 

When  she  was  fourteen  years  old  her  mother  married 
a  second  time,  and  removed  to  the  State  of  New  York. 
It  was  arranged  that  her  eldest  brother,  who  had  cared 
for  the  farm,  should  continue  in  charge,  and  that  Mary 
should  keep  house  for  him.  Knowing  how  desirous  his 
sister  was  to  go  to  school  and  study  the  higher  branches, 
the  brother  offered  to  pay  her  one  dollar  a  week,  which 
was  twenty-five  cents  a  week  more  than  girls  of  her  age 
could  get  in  families  at  that  time.  Four  years  she  acted 
as  housekeeper  for  him,  improving  her  leisure  time  in 
self-culture.  As  before,  she  spun  all  the  cloth  used  in 
the  family,  and  often  earned  a  little  by  spinning  for  a 
neighbor. 

After  four  years  her  brother  was  married,  and  removed 
to  New  York ;  and  Mary  laid  her  plans  to  attend  Sander- 
son Academy,  Ashfield,  Mass.  She  had  laid  by  money 
enough  to  pay  her  expenses  there  one  term.  If  possible, 
she  wanted  to  qualify  herself  for  teaching  a  district 
school.  She  was  by  far  the  best  scholar  in  the  school, 
endearing  herself  to  her  teachers,  and  surprising  them  by 
her  intellectual  feats.  When  she  was  reciting  her  les- 
sons, other  pupils  would  unconsciously  cease  studying  to 


298  TURNING  POINTS. 

listen  to  her.  There  was  fascination  in  her  bright,  in- 
telligent, facile  way  of  reciting  that  captivated  them. 

At  the  close  of  the  term  her  resources  were  exhausted, 
and  she  was  planning  to  leave  school.  But  the  trustees 
offered  her  the  advantages  of  another  term  free.  She 
possessed  a  bed  and  bedding,  and  some  other  articles  of 
furniture,  which  the  proprietor  of  the  boarding-house  re- 
ceived in  payment  for  her  board.  Thus  she  was  pro- 
vided with  another  term  of  school,  which  she  improved 
without  mercy  to  her  body.  She  slept  only  four  hours 
of  the  twenty -four  each  day,  spent  no  time  in  recreation, 
ate  her  meals  hurriedly,  and  pursued  her  studies  with 
all  her  might,  believing  that  her  schooldays  would  ter- 
minate with  that  term.  Her  progress  was  so  marvellous 
that  she  became  known  in  all  the  region  as  the  most 
gifted  student  ever  connected  with  the  Academy.  The 
result  was  that  her  services  were  wanted  as  teacher  in 
several  places,  and  she  left  the  institution  to  teach  and 
study  the  remainder  of  her  life.  From  the  start  she 
was  a  successful  teacher.  Between  school  sessions  she 
would  study  the  sciences,  drawing,  painting,  penman- 
ship, and  pursue  other  branches  of  knowledge  with  ex- 
perts in  these  departments.  At  one  time  she  pursued 
natural  science  under  the  Rev.  Edward  Hitchcock,  who 
afterwards  became  president  of  Amherst  College,  and 
also  took  lessons  in  drawing  and  painting  of  his  wife. 
Time  was  precious  to  her  beyond  estimate  ;  she  would 
not  lose  a  moment. 

At  twenty-four  she  had  saved  money  enough  to  pay 
for  a  year's  instruction  at  the  Rev.  Joseph  Emerson's 
school  in  By  field,  Mass.  He  was  a  noted  teacher,  and 
was  one  of  the  few  men  of  that  day  who  believed  in  the 


MART  LTON.  299 

higher  education  of  girls.  He  saw  no  good  reason  why 
young  women  should  not  study  science  and  art  as  well  as 
theology,  with  as  much  profit  as  young  men.  He  was 
not  afraid  of  having  girls  understand  metaphysics  as  well 
as  boys;  he  believed  that  the  better  their  education  the 
nobler  women  they  would  make.  This  was  Mary  Lyon's 
-opinion  also;  and  so  she  was  drawn  to  the  Emerson 
school.  She  thought  it  was  a  shame  for  educators  to 
hold  such  narrow  views  of  female  education  as  most  of 
them  did ;  and  she  began  to  say  to  herself  that  if  God 
spared  her  life  she  would  yet  do  something  for  the  bet- 
ter culture  of  girls.  She  desired  to  pursue  such  studies 
as  the  colleges  offered  to  young  men;  but  there  was 
not  a  college  in  the  land  that  would  admit  her,  even  to 
attend  a  course  of  lectures.  Mr.  Emerson's  school  was 
the  nearest  she  could  get  to  her  ideal  opportunities. 

She  attained  a  higher  mark  in  this  school  than  ever. 
One  of  her  classmates  wrote  to  a  mutual  friend,  "  Mary 
sends  love  to  all ;  but  time  with  her  is  too  precious  to 
spend  it  in  writing  letters.  Slie  is  gaining  knowledge 
by  handfuls."  She  had  scarcely  closed  her  connection 
with  the  Emerson  school,  when  an  assistant  teacher 
was  wanted  at  Sanderson  Academy.  The  trustees  had 
employed  a  male  teacher  hitherto,  and  were  disposed 
to  continue  the  practice ;  but  the  principal  suggested 
that  Mary  Lyon  would  do  better  than  a  man.  The 
counsel  was  adopted,  and  she  became  assistant  teacher. 
Within  a  short  time,  however,  she  was  called  to  a  much 
larger  field.  Miss  Grant,  who  was  one  of  her  instruc- 
tors in  Mr.  Emerson's  school,  had  opened  a  female 
seminary  in  Derry,  N.H. ;  and  Mary  Lyon  was  the  first 
person  she  thought  of  for  assistant.  There  were  ninety 


300  TURNING   POINTS. 

pupils  in  the  school ;  just  the  school  to  test  her  tact  and 
ability.  She  accepted  the  position  promptly,  and  more 
than  met  the  expectations  of  Miss  Grant.  But  the 
school  was  not  in  session  through  the  winter.  So  she 
taught  summers  in  Deny,  and  in  winters  in  her  native 
town,  Buckland,  where  her  popularity  became  so  great 
that  a  building  was  erected  for  her  school,  which  grew 
from  twenty-five  pupils  to  one  hundred ;  and  the  Min- 
isters' Association  passed  a  resolution  requesting  her  to 
settle  there  permanently. 

But  Miss  Grant  removed'  her  seminary  to  Ipswich, 
Mass.,  to  be  open  summer  and  winter ;  and  she  invited 
Miss  Lyon  to  become  associated  with  her.  For  six 
years  she  was  associated  with  Miss  Grant  in  this  famous 
school,  and  endeared  herself  to  her  pupils  by  her  con- 
stant and  affectionate  interest.  It  was  here  that  she 
first  began  to  think  of  an  institution  dedicated  to  the 
higher  education  of  girls.  There  was  no  such  seminary 
existing  as  she  had  in  mind ;  and  she  found  few  people 
to  sympathize  with  her  proposition.  "As  girls  would  not 
become  lawyers,  doctors,  or  ministers,  there  is  no  need 
of  a  higher  education,"  was- the  stereotyped  objection. 
But  all  the  cold  water  dashed  upon  her  enterprise  did 
not  cool  her  ardor.  The  scheme  grew  upon  her  mind, 
and  her  purpose  strengthened  with  it. 

While  her  mind  was  intensely  exercised  upon  this 
plan  of  a  seminary  on  a  grand  scale  for  women,  she 
received  an  offer  of  marriage.  This  was  a  turn  of 
affairs  that  she  had  not  dreamed  of.  Matrimony  had 
never  become  a  factor  in  her  life-plans.  Nor  was  it 
an  ordinary  opportunity  to  enter  into  matrimonial  re- 
lations. It  was  a  rare  offer,  and  one  that  she  might 


MARY  LYON.  301 

have  accepted  without  the  least  misgiving.  But  for 
the  ideal  institution  for  the  education  of  girls  that 
was  absorbing  her  thoughts,  she  might  have  accepted 
the  offer  as  providential.  But  the  ideal  seminary  had 
taken  such  full  possession  of  her  heart  that  there  was 
no  room  for  another  enterprise.  -The  time  had  not 
exactly  come  for  her  to  inaugurate  her  scheme,  but 
she  felt  sure  that  it  was  close  by.  She  had  no  more 
doubt  that  it  would  become  a  fact  than  she  had  of 
her  own  existence.  She  -believed  in  God,  and  she  be- 
lieved in  the  higher  education  of  girls  because  she 
believed  in  God.  Between  the  seminary  and  a  hus- 
band she  did  not  hesitate  to  choose.  ISTo  particular 
time  was  required  to  make  the  choice.  "  If  I  take  the 
husband,  I  cannot  have  the  seminary,"  she  thought ; 
and  that  was  true.  For  in  that  day,  when  little  or  no 
attention  was  paid  to  female  education,  to  enter  into 
wedlock  meant  the  discontinuance  of  teaching  and  all 
large  endeavors  for  the  public  welfare,  and  being  shut 
up  to  the  narrow  circle  of  home  and  family,  which  was 
well  enough  for  women  generally,  but  not  for  her.  She 
took  the  seminary  in  lieu  of  the  husband. 

Had  she  taken  the  husband,  there  is  little  doubt  that 
female  education  would  have  been  delayed  half  a  cen- 
tury. For  not  oftener  than  once  in  a  century  does 
such  a  woman  as  Mary  Lyon  appear.  Certainly  there 
would  have  been  no  Mount  Holyoke  Female  Seminary 
to  train  thousands  of  young  girls  for  usefulness.  The 
turning-point  of  her  career  came  with  the  offer  of  mar- 
riage ;  and  to-day  our  own  country,  and  some  foreign 
lands  as  well,  are  rearping  the  benefits  of  her  wise 
choice.  A  new  and  brighter  era  dawned  upon  the 


302  TURNING  POINTS. 

world  of  letters  when  Mary  Lyon  decided  not  to 
change  her  name. 

More  than  ever  she  was  determined  to  have  her 
institution  of  learning.  Only  here  and  there  a  person 
whom  she  consulted  believed  that  the  enterprise  was 
wise.  But  the  more  opposition  and  apathy  she  met 
with,  the  more  resolute  and  persistent  she  seemed  to 
become.  She  wrote  to  a  friend,  "  During  the  past  year 
my  heart  has  so  yearned  over  the  adult  female  youth  in 
the  common  walks  of  life,  that  it  has  sometimes  seemed 
as  though  a  fire  were  shut  up  in  my  bones."  Of  course 
she  went  to  work  with  a  will  for  her  pet  project. 

The  story  of  her  struggles  in  raising  money  for  the 
institution  proved  how  little  interest  there  was  in  the 
better  education  of  girls.  It  disclosed  also  the  invinci- 
ble spirit  that  characterized  the  author  of  the  scheme. 
Some  called  it  masculine  resolution,  and  advised  her  to 
do  something  more  womanly ;  but  she  only  pitied  them 
for  their  folly.  Others  said  that  the  enterprise  was 
against  nature ;  that  God  never  designed  such  educa- 
tion for  females  ;  and  she  left  them  to  become  ashamed 
of  themselves  in  due  time.  She  raised  the  necessary 
funds  to  start  with,  in  spite  of  ignorance,  indifference, 
and  opposition ;  and  the  corner-stone  of  the  seminary 
was  laid  Oct.  3,  1836.  Miss  Lyon  wrote,  "  It  was  a 
day  of  deep  interest.  The  stones  and  brick  and  mortar 
speak  a  language  which  vibrates  through  my  very  soul." 
With  what  joy  and  exultation  she  watched  the  building 
as  it  rose  !  She  said,  "  Had  I  a  thousand  lives  I  could 
sacrifice  them  all  in  suffering  and  hardship  for  the  sake 
of  Mount  Holyoke  Seminary.  Did  I  possess  the  great- 
est fortune,  I  could  readily  relinquish  it  all,  and  become 


MART  LYON.  303 

poor,  and  more  than  poor,  if  its  prosperity  should  de- 
mand it." 

Such  a  woman  is  inspired  for  a  purpose.  She  and 
God  constitute  the  majority  for  that  purpose. 

The  seminary  opened  in  the  autumn  of  1837,  with  one 
hundred  and  sixteen  pupils,  while  the  building  would 
accommodate  but  eighty.  The  expense  was  only  one 
dollar  and  twenty-five  cents  a  week  for  each  scholar ; 
and  Miss  Lyon  fixed  her  own  salary  at  two  hundred 
dollars,  and  never  would  receive  any  more.  The  semi- 
nary grew  in  popularity  and  magnitude.  New  buildings 
and  facilities  for  instruction  were  demanded,  and  the 
money  to  pay  for  them  was  cheerfully  contributed.  The 
property  is  now  valued  at  more  than  three  hundred 
thousand  dollars,  and  the  seminary  has  become  a  col- 
lege of  the  highest  grade.  More  than  six  thousand 
pupils  have  been  instructed  there,  three-fourths  of  whom 
have  become  teachers  in  this  and  other  countries,  two 
hundred  of  them  missionaries  in  the  home  and  foreign 
field.  Large  numbers  of  the  graduates  have  become  the 
wives  of  ministers,  lawyers,  physicians,  teachers,  and 
public  educators.  In  this  way  the  influence  of  the  insti- 
tution has  belted  the  globe,  to  the  honor  of  the  founder 
who  had  done  so  much  to  make  it  a  grand  success. 

In  1849  a  contagious  disease  broke  out  in  the  semi- 
nary, and  the  pupils  became  greatly  alarmed.  Many  of 
them  were  running  hither  and  thither,  preparing  to  flee 
from  the  school  in  their  fright.  Miss  Lyon  called  them 
together  in  the  chapel,  and  discoursed  to  them  upon  the 
providence  of  God,  and  the  unwisdom  of  such  conster- 
nation, when  calm,  quiet  repose  ought  to  be  their  pos- 
session under  the  watch  and  care  of  the  kindest  Father, 


304  TURNING   POINTS. 

"  There  is  nothing  in  the  universe  that  I  am  afraid  of," 
she  said,  "but  that  I  shall  not  know  and  do  all  my 
duty."  In  one  week  from  that  time  she  died  of  that 
disease. 

There  was  mourning  everywhere  over  her  death.  In 
every  State  of  the  American  Union,  and  in  many  foreign 
lands,  there  were  found  her  devoted  pupils,  who  received 
the  tidings  of  her  decease  with  tears,  as  if  a  personal 
bereavement.  A  lady  in  Montreal  wrote,  "Long  ere 
this,  amid  the  hunting-grounds  of  the  Sioux  and  the 
villages  of  the  Cherokees,  the  tear  of  the  missionary  has 
wet  the  page  which  has  told  of  her  departure.  The 
Sandwich  Islander  will  ask  why  his  white  teacher's  eye 
is  dim  as  she  reads  her  American  letters.  The  swarthy 
African  will  lament  with  his  sorrowing  guide,  who  cries, 
'  Help,  Lord,  for  the  godly  ceaseth.'  The  cinnamon 
groves  of  Ceylon,  and  the  palm-trees  of  India,  over- 
shadow her  early-deceased  missionary  pupils ;  while  those 
left  to  bear  the  burden  and  heat  of  the  day  will  Avail  the 
saint  whose  prayers  and  letters  they  so  prized.  Among 
the  Nestorians  of  Persia,  and  at  the  base  of  Mount 
Olympus,  will  her  name  be  breathed  softly,  as  the  house- 
hold name  of  one  whom  God  hath  taken." 

Said  Dr.  Hitchcock,  "  At  her  death  she  had  opened  a 
perennial  fountain  of  influence,  whose  streams  had  al- 
ready reached  the  remotest  nations  of  the  earth,  and 
which  through  future  generations  is  destined  to  do  more 
for  the  happiness  of  the  world  than  all  the  acts  of  the 
mightiest  queen  who  ever  ruled.  Surely  the  whole  pic- 
ture impresses  us  forcibly  with  its  moral  sublimity;  and 
we  might  almost  have  expected  that  the  chariot  and 
horses  of  fire  would  have  been  granted  to  close  a  scene 
so  much  like  an  angel  visit." 


HORACE  EEIGHAM  CLAFLIN.  305 


XXXVIII. 

HORACE  BRIGHAM  CLAFLIN. 

THE    CHOICE    BETWEEN    COLLEGE    AND    THE    STORE    THAT 
MADE    THE    GREAT    MERCHANT. 

JOHN  CLAFLIN  was  a  merchant  and  farmer  in  Milford, 
Mass.  He  had  a  general  country  store,  the  only  one  in 
the  small  town  at  the  time  ;  and  also  he  cultivated  a  farm. 
He  was  a  citizen  of  recognized  executive  ability,  inter- 
ested in  the  public  welfare,  and  was  justice  of  the  peace. 
His  son,  Horace  Brigham,  born  Dec.  18,  1811,  developed 
into  a  boy  of  great  force  of  character,  accompanied  with 
a  fair  share  of  practical  sense.  He  was  a  good  scholar, 
although  lie  was  not  particularly  fond  of  going  to  school. 
His  parents  strongly  desired  that  he  should  be  liberally 
educated,  and  fill  one  of  the  learned  professions.  Nor 
did  Horace  object  to  this.  He  loved  study  well  enough 
to  favor  the  wishes  of  his  parents ;  and  so  he  attended 
the  common  school,  and,  later,  the  academy  in  town. 
His  school-life  was  satisfactory  to  both  teacher  and 
parents.  Few  boys  improve  kindred  opportunities  bet- 
ter than  he  did.  It  was  what  his  father  desired,  and 
that  was  sufficient  to  enlist  his  best  efforts. 

Yet  Horace  was  full  of  fun,  the  life  and  soul  of  the 
youthful  circle  in  which  he  moved.  A  good  time  was 
generally  expected  where  he  was.  But  a  remarkable 


306  TURNING  POINTS. 

sense  of  propriety  characterized  him  even  in  boyhood, 
so  that  his  animal  spirits  were  never  allowed  to  com- 
promise his  manly  bearing  or  obedience  to  his  parents. 
His  self-control  was  one  of  his  best  traits. 

It  was  generally  supposed  that  Mr.  Claflin  would  send 
Horace  to  college.  Neighbors  so  understood  it,  and  so 
did  his  teachers,  and  it  was  discussed  in  the  family.  It 
was  the  custom  then  for  boys  to  devote  their  whole  time 
in  school  to  the  English  branches  until  fifteen  or  sixteen 
years  of  age,  when  Greek  and  Latin  could  be  taken  up 
in  preparation  for  college.  Horace  had  not  objected  at 
all  to  the  plans  of  his  father  for  his  liberal  education ; 
he  had  appeared  to  accept  that  view  of  his  life  as  a 
matter  of  course.  True,  he  often  assisted  his  father  in 
the  store,  and  enjoyed  the  business  thoroughly,  and  was 
a  very  energetic  and  handy  boy  there.  '  Possibly  he  may 
have  expressed  his  satisfaction  with  mercantile  business ; 
but  his  father  had  planned  otherwise,  and  that  was 
enough  for  him  to  know.  Doubtless  his  father  noticed 
the  facility  with  which  he  waited  upon  customers  in  the 
store,  how  readily  he  turned  his  hand  to  any  part  of  the 
business ;  but  he  was  too  anxious  for  his  son  to  follow 
one  of  the  learned  professions  to  be  influenced  by  any 
such  exhibit  of  judgment  and  tact. 

But  the  time  came  when  a  decision  had  to  be  made. 
Horace  was  fifteen  years  of  age,  and  the  principal  of  the 
academy  said  that  he  must  take  up  Latin  and  Greek  if 
he  were  going  to  college. 

"I  don't  want  you  should  prepare  for  college  unless 
your  heart  is  in  it,"  said  his  father ;  "  but  it  has  always 
been  my  desire  that  you  should  have  a  liberal  education, 
and  now  I  should  be  more  than  glad  if  you  think  and 
feel  as  I  do," 


HORACE  EEIGUAM  CLAFL1N.  307 

Horace  listened  to  his  father  without  a  syllable  of  dis- 
sent. He  acceded  to  his  proposition  to  begin  the  study 
of  languages  at  once,  without  betraying  the  least  reluc- 
tance. The  wishes  of  his  father  appear  to  have  been 
sufficient  for  his  decision.  But  subsequently,  on  con- 
versing with  his  teacher  upon  the  subject,  he  said,  — 

"  Well,  I  will  try  the  dead  languages,  and  see  how 
they  agree  with  me." 

Nothing  more  was  said,  and  he  took  up  his  new  line 
of  study  with  the  resolution  that  he  had  the  English 
branches.  But  evidently  his  mind  was  silently  exercised 
upon  another  theme.  For,  after  a  few  weeks,  he  ap- 
proached his  teacher,  and  said,  — 

"  My  purpose  is  to  spend  my  life  in  trade,  and  I  do 
not  see  how  the  study  of  Latin  and  Greek  will  be  bene- 
ficial to  me  in  that  pursuit.  I  want  to  be  in  business 
this  minute.  I  am  young,  but  that  is  no  objection.  The 
younger  I  begin  the  better  for  me." 

The  preceptor  lost  no  time  in  communicating  the 
above  conversation  to  Mr.  Claflin.  "Very  well,"  re- 
sponded the  wise  merchant  and  father ;  "  why  should  he 
study  Greek  and  Latin  if  he  is  going  to  be  a  merchant  ? 
I  am  sure  that  I  do  not  want  he  should  go  to  college 
unless  he  desires  to.  If  his  natural  bent  is  in  the  line 
of  trade,  and  I  am  inclined  to  think  it  may  be,  it  is  a 
thousand  times  better  for  him  to  be  a  merchant.  I  want 
he  should  follow  his  natural  bent,  anyway." 

The  outcome  was,  that  he  was  installed  as  clerk  in  his 
father's  store  within  three  months,  and  there  began  a 
most  remarkable  mercantile  career. 

The  turning-point  came  when  he  was  forced  to  choose 
his  life-pursuit.  Evidently  it  was  a  grave  matter  with 


308  TURNING  POINTS. 

the  boy,  for  his  father's  wishes  were  all-important  to 
him.  There  is  no  doubt  that  he  would  have  succeeded 
as  a  scholar,  for  he  had  an  active,  discriminating  mind ; 
but  there  can  be  no  question  that  his  final  decision  was 
in  the  line  of  his  highest  qualities.  The  choice  between 
college  and  store  made  him  manager  of  the  largest  dry- 
goods  house  in  the  world. 

Horace  found  his  place  in  the  store  very  congenial, 
and  his  father  was  convinced  that  his  choosing  trade  in- 
stead of  an  education  was  wise.  He  put  new  life  into 
the  business,  and  it  prospered  more  than  ever.  At 
twenty  years  of  age  Horace  received  this  proposition, 
that  he  and  his  brother  Aaron,  and  his  brother-in-law, 
Samuel  Daniels,  should  take  the  business,  and  let  the 
father  retire.  This  proposition  was  accepted ;  and  the 
three  young  men  moved  forward,  making  such  changes 
as  they  thought  were  necessary. 

At  that  time  country  stores  kept  groceries  on  sale,  in- 
cluding all  sorts  of  intoxicating  liquors.  Horace  was  an 
enemy  to  strong  drink  ;  he  had  seen  much  of  its  destruc- 
tive influence.  So  he  proposed  that  they  clean  the  cellar 
out  of  everything  of  the  kind,  and  run  a  temperance 
grocery.  His'  partners  agreed  to  it,  and  every  gallon  of 
intoxicants  was  brought  out  of  the  cellar  and  emptied 
into  the  gutter.  That  was  before  a  prohibitory  law  was 
dreamed  of ;  and  the  fact  shows  that  Horace  was  far  in 
advance  of  his  times  on  this  and  other  questions. 

The  first  year  of  traffic  was  a  profitable  one  to  the 
young  firm  ;  and  at  its  close  Horace  proposed  that  they 
open  a  branch  in  Worcester,  for  the  sale  of  dry  goods 
only.  The  enterprise  was  heartily  espoused  by  all,  and 
it  proved  successful  beyond  their  most  sanguine  expecta- 


BORACE  BEIGHAM  CLAFLIN.  S09 

tions.  Horace  introduced  a  new  element  of  trade  in  the 
Worcester  store,  —  large  sales  and  small  profits.  The 
idea  took  with  Worcester  people,  and  their  business 
increased  rapidly.  It  was  altogether  a  new  venture  in 
Worcester,  and  rather  disturbed  the  old  traders  at  first ; 
but  the  outcome  was  good,  both  for  merchant  and  patron. 
At  the  close  of  the  first  year  in  Worcester,  the  partner- 
ship was  dissolved,  Aaron  taking  the  Milford  store,  and 
Horace  continuing  in  Worcester.  For  ten  years  Horace 
did  business  in  that  city,  his  volume  of  trade  increasing 
largely  from  year  to  year.  At  the  start,  old  merchants 
prophesied  that  their  driving  young  brother  in  trade 
would  fail,  as  it  was  quite  impossible  for  any  man  to 
run  such  a  business  on  profits  so  small.  Often  the  rumor 
went  abroad  that  young  Claflin  had  gone  under ;  and  no 
wonder.  But  he  was  at  the  top  all  the  while;  and  at 
the  end  of  ten  years,  when  he  decided  to  remove  to  New 
York  City,  he  had  accumulated  thirty  thousand  dollars. 
Friends  endeavored  to  dissuade  him  from  relinquishing 
a  business  so  large  and  profitable  for  an  uncertainty  in  a 
great  city  overcrowded  with  merchants.  But  the  young 
man  had  his  wits  about  him.  He  had  studied  New  York 
and  its  market ;  and  he  believed  that  there  was  a  grand 
opening  in  that  metropolis  for  a  mammoth  store,  run  on 
his  principle  of  la  rye  sales  and  small  profits.  At  any 
rate,  he  wanted  to  try  it  for  himself;  and  in  1843  he 
entered  into  partnership  with  William  M.  Bulkley,  and 
opened  a  store  at  No.  46  Cedar  Street,  which  seemed  to 
most  people  far  out  of  the  way  for  the  traffic  of  that 
day.  But  Horace  Claflin  had  an  eye  upon  the  growth  of 
the  city  when  he  selected  a  location  ;  and  every  change 
he  made  subsequently  was  settled  in  like  manner. 


310  TURNING  POINTS. 

He  struck  into  a  good  business  at  once,  and  its  growth 
was  more  rapid  than  in  Worcester.  Large  sales  and 
small  profits  took  even  better  in  New  York  than  in  Mas- 
sachusetts, and  the  new  house  won  friends  and  trade  on 
every  hand.  In  seven  years  his  accommodations  were 
altogether  too  small  for  his  trade ;  and  he  was  forced  to 
remove  to  No.  57  Broadway,  where  two  or  three  times 
his  present  volume  of  business  could  be  transacted.  Nor 
did  his  business  attain  to  so  great  proportions  by  send- 
ing runners  to  hotels  and  theatres,  and  joining  clubs,  as 
was  the  custom  with  many  merchants ;  for  Mr.  Claflin 
found  his  highest  enjoyment  in  his  Brooklyn  home  out 
of  business  hours,  and  never  felt  the  least  necessity  of 
resorting  to  questionable  expedients  to  increase  custom- 
ers. The  anti-slavery  movement  assumed  large  propor- 
tions a  few  years  after  he  opened  his  New  York  house, 
and  he  stood  in  the  front  rank  in  the  fight.  He  had 
become  a  leading  merchant  of  New  York  then,  and  his 
influence  was  wide  and  strong.  His  Southern  business 
was  extensive ;  and  Southern  customers  remonstrated 
against  his  hostility  to  their  pet  institution,  and  threat- 
ened to  quit  trading  with  him  unless  he  would  quit  at- 
tacking slavery.  But  his  only  answer  was,  "  MY  GOODS, 
NOT  MY  PRINCIPLES,  ARE  FOR  SALE."  He  had  the  cour- 
age  of  his  convictions  at  whatever  cost ;  and  his  integ- 
rity was  absolutely  above  reproach.  At  the  time  of  his 
death  the  Chamber  of  Commerce  paid  a  glowing  tribute 
to  his  spotless  character. 

His  enormous  business  was  worked  upon  the  line  of 
strict  honesty,  completely  demolishing  that  old  subter- 
fuge, that  business  cannot  be  conducted  on  strictly  hon- 
est methods.  In  1852  his  business  footed  up  over  one 


HOE  ACE  BRIG  II AM  CLAFLIN.  311 

million  dollars,  which  was  large  for  that  day ;  and  it  was 
rapidly  increasing,  making  another  move  imperative. 
He  erected  an  immense  warehouse  at  No.  Ill  Broadway, 
and  occupied  it  in  1853.  In  1860  his  business  amounted 
to  nearly  FOURTEEN  MILLION  DOLLARS,  leading  all  mer- 
cantile houses  of  the  kind  in  the  world. 

The  Civil  War  was  unexpected  to  him,  and  it  made , 
havoc  with  his  enormous  traffic.  He  was  obliged  to  ask 
his  creditors  for  an  extension  for  five  months ;  but  he 
paid  every  dollar  of  his  obligations  in  three  months,  with 
interest.  Again  the  financial  crisis  of  1873  brought  him 
into  great  straits,  and  he  asked  for  another  extension ; 
but  paid  every  dollar,  with  interest,  long  before  the 
specified  time  arrived.  At  this  time  his  traffic  had 
reached  the  unparalleled  proportion  of  SEVENTY-TWO 
MILLION  DOLLARS  in  a  single  year!  And  yet  this  tre- 
mendous business  was  done  without  a  breath  of  suspicion 
resting  upon  the  gifted  manager.  His  word  was  as  cur- 
rent as  his  bond.  His  great  warehouse,  with  its  un- 
questioned honesty  inside,  was  a  colossal  answer  to  the 
picayune  claim,  that  absolute  uprightness  cannot  be 
maintained  in  the  commercial  world. 

Mr.  Claflin  had  the  reputation  of  training  more  young 
men  for  business,  and  helping  them  to  start  for  them- 
selves, than  any  other  man  in  New  York  City.  He  was 
a  discriminating  student  of  human  nature,  and  he  saw  at 
a  glance  who  possessed  the  qualities  and  character  indis- 
pensable to  success.  To  such  his  kindness,  generosity, 
and  wise  counsels  were  free  as  air ;  and  to-day  there  are 
many  merchants  of  property  and  position  living  who 
cherish  his  memory  as  that  of  their  most  honored  bene- 
factor. 


312  TURNING  POINTS. 

Mr.  Claflin  died  in  Fordham,  N.Y.,  his  country  resi- 
dence, Nov.  14, 1885.  By  his  death  an  important  factor 
and  force  dropped  out  of  New  York  trade ;  though  his 
grand  example  lived  on,  and  will  continue  to  live  so  long 
as  tact  and  integrity  are  recognized  elements  of  success. 


ALEXANDER   TURNEY  STEWART.  313 


XXXIX. 

ALEXANDER  TURNEY   STEWART. 

THE    LOAN    THAT    CONVERTED    THE    PEDAGOGUE    INTO 
A    MERCHANT    PRINCE. 

THE  subject  of  this  sketch  was  born  in  Belfast,  Ire- 
land, Oct.  12, 1803.  His  father  was  a  farmer,  of  Scotch 
descent,  well  known  and  honored  for  his  intelligence, 
industry,  and  high  character.  He  belonged  to  the 
Church  of  England,  and  set  a  higher  value  upon  his 
church  relations  than  upon  any  others.  His  first 
thought  was,  when  his  son  Alexander  Turney  was 
born,  to  devote  him  to  the  Church  of  England.  That 
was  the  best  expression  of  his  love  for  the  church, 
and  it  was  honest  and  hearty.  Mr.  Stewart  was  not 
rich  in  worldly  goods ;  but  he  was  industrious,  economi- 
cal, and  aspiring,  and  felt  sure  that  he  could  command 
the  means  of  defraying  the  expenses  of  his  son  in 
acquiring  a  liberal  education.  For  this  he  planned 
from  the  earliest  boyhood  of  his  son,  familiarly  dis- 
cussing the  matter  with  him,  and  directing  his  course 
of  study  to  this  end. 

Alexander  was  a  remarkable  boy  in  many  respects. 
He  possessed  a  good  mind  and  heart,  and  was  disposed 
to  make  the  best  possible  use  of  his  opportunities.  He 
required  no  urging  to  studious  habits,  and  no  watchful- 


814  TURNING  POINTS. 

ness  to  secure  his  implicit  obedience.  He  was  both 
studious  and  obedient  as  a  matter  of  course,  as  if  born 
with  these  two  qualities  in  his  make-up.  Of  course  his 
parents  were  delighted  with  his  good  behavior  and  noble 
aspirations,  and  gladly  economized  in  every  possible 
way  to  keep  him  in  school. 

While  Alexander  was  away  at  school  his  father  died, 
leaving  him  to  the  care  of  a  guardian,  with  money 
enough  to  pay  the  bills  for  his  education.  At  this 
time  he  was  seventeen  -years  old,  and  had  thought 
much  about  the  profession  he  was  designed  to  fill. 
In  his  own  mind  he  had  become  convinced  that  he 
was  not  fitted  for  the  ministry ;  and  he  really  shrank 
from  the  responsibility.  He  had  never  hinted  as  much 
to  his  father  or  his  teachers ;  he  had  only  thought 
it.  But  now  that  his  father's  death  had  changed  affairs, 
and  his  approach  to  manhood  rendered  a  speedy  de- 
cision imperative,  he  opened  the  subject  to  his  guardian. 

"  I  have  not  the  qualities  a  clergyman  ought  to  pos- 
sess," he  said ;  "  indeed,  I  have  not  the  least  desire  to 
enter  the  ministry,  I  rather  shrink  from  it.  So  long 
as  I  feel  so,  it  seems  to  me  unwise  to  go  on  with  my 
preparation  for  sacred  orders." 

His  guardian  was  a  wise  man,  with  heartfelt  interest 
in  Alexander's  welfare.  So  he  listened  to  this  revela- 
tion, and  answered  thoughtfully,  — 

"  Perhaps  you  are  right ;  I  am  not  prepared  to  say 
that  your  views  are  wrong.  I  am  quite  sure  that  no 
young  man  should  enter  the  ministry  against  his  own 
judgment  and  wishes  ;  but  we  need  to  give  the  subject 
serious  consideration,  that  we  may  settle  it  wisely." 

It  is  enough  to  say  that  after  Alexander's  guardian 


ALEXANDER    TURNEY  STEWART.  315 

had  canvassed  the  matter  with  him  over  and  over,  be- 
coming familiar  with  his  tastes  and  habits,  and  dis- 
covering in  him  an  aptitude  for  business,  he  became 
thoroughly  convinced  that  the  ministry  was  not  the 
profession  for  a  young  man  of  his  qualities  to  enter. 
Therefore,  further  preparation  for  that  calling  was 
abandoned,  and  the  remainder  of  his  school-life,  until 
he  was  twenty  years  of  age,  was  spent  in  the  pursuit  of 
studies  that  would  serve  him  well  as  teacher  or  mer- 
chant. He  had  signified  a  preference  for  mercantile 
business  ;  and  his  guardian  appears  to  have  discovered 
in  him  a  decided  fitness  for  that  sphere. 

Alexander  was  in  love  with  the  United  States.  He 
had  heard  and  read  much  of  its  wonderful  advantages 
for  young  men  in  various  pursuits.  He  had  been  told 
that  it  was  the  paradise  of  schoolmasters ;  and  he  was 
abundantly  qualified  to  teach  school.  He  was  sure  that 
New  York  City  had  an  opening  for  him,  could  he  reach 
that  great  metropolis.  His  guardian  sympathized  with 
him  in  all  these  plans  and  aspirations,  the  outcome  of 
which  was  that  he  became  a  citizen  of  New  York  when 
he  was  twenty  years  of  age. 

His  purse  was  not  filled  to  repletion,  so  that  he  could 
not  waste  much  time  in  studying  the  city  and  its  people. 
He  made  an  early  application  for  the  position  of  teacher 
in  a  well-known  private  school  on  Roosevelt  Street,  and 
was  successful.  Here  he  began  life  in  the  New  World 
as  pedagogue,  and  proved  at  once  that  he  was  well 
adapted  to  that  calling.  He  was  a  careful,  popular 
instructor,  and  enjoyed  the  work  far  more  than  he 
expected.  He  laid  no  plans  for  other  business ;  he 
was  content  with  this,  at  least  for  the  present. 


316  TUENING   POINTS. 

Among  the  new  and  many  friends  that  Stewart  early 
made  in  New  York,  was  a  young  man  of  good  habits 
and  much  enterprise,  who  wanted  to  set  up  business  for 
himself  in  a  cautious  way.  To  make  out  the  small 
amount  of  money  he  wanted,  Stewart  loaned  him  sev- 
enty-eight dollars.  They  were  fast  friends,  and  con- 
fided their  personal  experiences  to  each  other.  The 
young  man  was  not  successful  in  his  venture,  and  he 
became  exceedingly  troubled.  He  unbosomed  his  anx- 
ieties to  Stewart,  and  finally  told  him  that  the  only 
way  for  him  to  secure  his  loan  of  seventy -eight  dollars 
was  to  buy  him  out  and  prosecute  the  business  himself. 
It  was  an  unexpected  proposition,  and  therefore  was 
not  accepted  immediately.  But  the  crisis  in  his  life 
had  come ;  and  the  unexpected  usually  comes  with  a 
crisis.  He  \vas  about  to  enter  upon  his  life-pursuit, 
though  he  knew  it  not.  Finally  he  accepted  the  propo- 
sition, resigned  his  position  in  school,  and  was  installed 
as  a  merchant  on  a  small  scale.  But  his  ideas  and 
plans  grew  rapidly.  He  reached  his  majority  sometime 
before,  and  his  guardian  was  holding  his  inheritance  of 
two  or  three  thousand  dollars  for  him  at  home.  He 
decided  to  go  to  Ireland  for  it.  He  went,  accomplished 
his  object,  and  returned  to  open  a  store  at  283  Broad- 
way. Incidental  to  coming  into  possession  of  the  pa- 
ternal inheritance,  was  an  arrangement  that  he  made, 
when  at  home,  to  handle  Belfast  laces.  This  proved  a 
fortunate  venture,  for  his  display  of  these  valuable 
laces  in  his  New  York  store  drew  many  customers  at 
once.  His  store  accommodations  were  very  limited. 
The  rent  was  only  two  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  per 
annum ;  but  Belfast  laces  drew  the  shoppers  like  a  two 


ALEXANDER    TURNEY   STEWART.  317 

thousand  dollar  rental.  It  was  only  a  large  front  room 
for  the  store,  and  a  smaller  one  back  of  it  in  which  the 
proprietor  lodged  at  night. 

It  was  a  good  start  that  he  made.  Perhaps  it  never 
would  have  been  made  but  for  the  loan  of  seventy-eight 
dollars  to  his  friend.  He  might  have  continued  a  peda- 
gogue, had  not  disaster  overtaken  his  honest  creditor. 
Obliged  to  exchange  pedagoguing  for  trade,  to  "  save  his 
bacon,"  he  discovered  that  his  aptitude  for  traffic  was 
greater  than  his  aptitude  for  teaching.  Within  a  few 
years  he  knew  that  he  was  more  of  a  merchant  than 
he  ever  could  have  been  of  an  instructor.  He  had 
found  his  place  in  the  body  politic,  and  no  one  lived 
to  doubt  it. 

Mr.  Stewart  started  his  business  on  the  basis  of  one 
price  and  small  profits.  The  one-price  system  was  new 
in  New  York,  and  was  not  quite  popular  at  first.  Many 
shoppers  enjoyed  beating  down  merchants  on  their  prices ; 
shopping  was  scarcely  shopping  without  it.  But  the 
young  Irish  trader  meant  business,  and  his  rule  was  iron. 
One  price,  take  it  or  leave  it.  But  the  small-profit  rule 
was  always  popular;  and  when  sufficient  time  had 
elapsed  to  adjust  the  two  rules,  they  Avorked  admirably ; 
and  in  one  year  the  business  outgrew  the  building,  and 
he  removed  to  more  ample  quarters  at  262  Broadway. 
His  business  had  grown  to  quite  large  proportions,  and 
his  accumulation  of  wealth  was  rapid  and  sure. 

A  few  years  later  he  erected  the  huge  marble  palace 
for  his  business,  occupying  the  whole  front  on  Broadway 
between  Chambers  and  Reade  Streets,  at  an  expense  of 
more  than  two  million  dollars.  In  this  great  store  he 
employed  two  thousand  clerks,  and,  under  the  proprie- 


318  TURNING  POINTS. 

tor's  efficient  management  everything  moved  like  clock- 
work. A  training  for  business  in  this  establishment 
came  to  be  more  highly  prized  than  a  course  in  a  busi- 
ness college.  No  exaggeration,  misrepresentation,  or  un- 
truthfulness  was  allowed  in  the  store.  Clerks  were 
obliged  to  possess  character  first,  tact  next.  Fathers 
considered  themselves  fortunate  when  they  found  posi- 
tions for  their  sons  in  this  famous  house. 

Later  on  Mr.  Stewart  erected,  for  his  retail  trade,  the 
largest  dry-goods  store  in  the  world  at  that  time.  It 
occupied  "the  entire  block  bounded  by  Broadway  and 
Fourth  Avenue,  between  Ninth  and  Tenth  Streets,"  and 
the  cost  was  nearly  three  million  dollars.  The  marble 
palace  was  reserved  for  his  wholesale  business.  The 
magnitude  of  his  traffic  reached  almost  incredible  fig- 
ures. The  annual  expense  of  running  his  business 
amounted  to  from  one  to  two  million  dollars.  The 
aggregate  sales  for  three  years  previous  to  Mr.  Stew- 
art's death  were  $203,000,000. 

Mr.  Stewart  won  a  world-wide  reputation  as  a  finan- 
cier. It  was  said  that  a  merchant  who  can  superintend 
and  guide  to  success  so  great  a  business,  could  command 
an  army  with  equal  tact.  President  Grant  paid  a  high 
tribute  to  his  financial  ability  by  appointing  him  Secre- 
tary of  the  Treasury  in  1869.  He  could  not  accept  the 
position,  however,  because  the  law  prohibited  importers 
to  fill  the  office;  and  Mr.  Stewart  was  the  prince  of 
importers. 

His  influence  in  New  York  City  became  marked,  and 
it  was  on  the  right  side  of  important  moral  questions. 
He  declined  to  accept  any  political  office,  but,  at  the 
same  time,  promptly  joined  with  others  in  fighting  cor- 


ALEXANDER    TUENEY  STEWART.  319 

rupt  administrations,  such  as  the  "  Tweed  King."  When 
told  that  fifty  thousand  dollars  would  secure  an  ordinance 
from  the  Board  of  Alderman  to  widen  Laurens  Street, 
and  thus  add  hundreds  of  thousands  to  the  value  of  his 
real  estate  in  that  vicinity,  and  was  asked  if  he  would 
give  it,  his  answer  was  emphatic  and  characteristic : 
"  No ;  but  I  will  give  fifty  thousand  this  minute  to 
know  the  names  of  the  aldermen  who  expect  to  get  the 
money." 

His  heart  responded  cheerfully  to  the  calls  of  charity. 
When  the  famine  prevailed  in  Ireland  in  1846,  he  sent  a 
ship-load  of  provisions  to  the  sufferers,  and  instructed 
his  agents  to  bring  back,  free  of  charge,  a  cargo  of  Irish 
immigrants,  selecting  respectable  families  who  could 
read  and  write.  With  kindred  generosity  he  sent  a 
shipload  of  flour  to  France  after  the  disastrous  war  with 
Germany.  His  gift  to  Chicago,  after  its  great  fire,  was 
fifty  thousand  dollars.  But  we  have  not  space  to  record 
the  thousands  and  tens  of  thousands  of  dollars  that  he 
sent  here  and  there  to  relieve  suffering  humanity.  In 
the  city  of  his  adoption  almost  every  society  to  amelio- 
rate the  hard  lot  of  thousands  dispensed  his  bounties. 
The  seventy-eight  dollars  that  he  loaned  many  years 
before  had  become  millions,  to  benefit  art  and  science, 
and  carry  relief  and  hope  to  thousands  of  hapless  homes. 

Mr.  Stewart  died  April  10,  1876.  Although  his  men- 
tal and  physical  powers  had  been  subjected  to  a  fearful 
strain  for  many  years,  he  lived  quite  beyond  the  average 
age  of  business  men.  Respected  in  his  life,  lamented  in 
his  death,  his  memory  is  cherished  as  that  of  an  honest, 
useful,  remarkable  public  man. 


320  TURXIXG  POINTS. 


XL. 

LEIGH  HUNT. 

THE    SICKNESS    THAT    TRANSFORMED    HIM    INTO    A 
LITERARY    BENEFACTOR. 

THE  father  of  Leigh  Hunt  was  a  clergyman,  and 
the  son  was  expected  to  follow  the  same  profession. 
The  family  belonged  to  Barbadoes,  in  the  West  Indies, 
where  the  grandfather  of  Leigh  officiated  as  a  clergy- 
man also.  Leigh's  father  was  sent  to  Philadelphia  in 
his  early  youth  to  be  educated,  as  that  city  belonged  to 
the  English-American  colonies,  and  was  somewhat  known 
for  its  culture  at  that  early  day.  He  was  a  wild  youth, 
and  found  plenty  of  students  like  himself  in  the  Quaker 
City.  Still,  he  pursued  his  studies  with  a  good  degree  of 
success,  and  was  graduated  in  due  time,  a  handsome, 
gentlemanly,  affable  fellow.  His  oration  on  commence- 
ment day,  together  with  his  grace  and  beauty,  captivated 
two  young  ladies,  who  fell  in  love  with  him ;  one  of  them 
he  subsequently  married. 

It  seems  that  he  studied  both  law  and  gospel,  but 
practised  law  only.  He  settled  in  Philadelphia,  and  at 
the  outbreak  of  the  American  Revolution  had  quite  a 
law-practice  to  support  his  growing  family.  He  es- 
poused the  cause  of  the  Crown,  for  which  he  was  per- 
secuted and  mobbed.  The  son  says  of  his  father  at 
this  time,  in  his  "  Autobiography :  "  — 


LEIGH  HUNT.  321 

"  He  entered  with  so  much  zeal  into  the  cause  of  the 
British  Government,  that,  besides  pleading  for  the  Loyal- 
ists with  great  fervor  at  the  bar,  he  wrote  pamphlets 
equally  full  of  party  warmth,  which  drew  on  him  the 
popular  odium.  His  fortunes  then  came  to  a  crisis  in 
America.  Early  one  morning  a  great  concourse  of  peo- 
ple appeared  before  his  house.  He  came  out,  or  was 
brought.  They  put  him  into  a  cart  prepared  for  the 
purpose,  and,  after  parading  him  about  the  streets,  were 
joined  by  a  party  of  the  Revolutionary  soldiers  with 
drum  and  fife.  The  multitude  then  went  to  the  house 
of  Dr.  Kearsley,  who  was  dragged  out  and  placed  in  the 
cart.  ...  At  length,  after  being  carried  through  every 
street  in  Philadelphia,  the  tAvo  captives  were  deposited, 
in  the  evening,  in  a  prison  in  Market  Street.  What  be- 
came of  Dr.  Kearsley  I  cannot  say.  My  father,  by 
means  of  a  large  sum  of  money  given  to  the  sentinel 
who  had  charge  of  him,  was  enabled  to  escape  at  mid- 
night. He  went  immediately  on  board  a  ship  in  the 
Delaware,  that  belonged  to  my  grandfather,  and  was 
bound  for  the  West  Indies.  She  dropped  down  the 
river  the  same  night,  and  my  father  went  first  to  Bar- 
badoes,  and  afterward  to  England,  where  he  settled." 

There  his  family  joined  him  a  few  months  later. 

The  family  settled  in  Southgate,  Middlesex ;  and  here 
Leigh  was  born,  Oct.  19, 1784.  He  was  a  delicate,  sickly 
child,  and  was  raised  only  by  the  most  tender  nursing. 
However,  his  health  improved  so  that  he  could  attend 
school  and  make  decided  progress.  He  began  to  write 
verses  at  eight  or  ten  years  of  age,  and  at  twelve  com- 
posed poetry  that  appeared  in  print.  His  father  beheld 
in  these  poetical  effusions  evidence  of  unusual  talents ; 


322  TURNING   POINTS. 

and,  when  Leigh  was  sixteen  years  of  age,  he  collected 
his  poems  and  published  them  in  a  volume.  Friends  re- 
garded them  with  great  favor ;  but  the  author  of  them 
said,  in  his  manhood,  "They  were  a  heap  of  imitations, 
all  but  absolutely  worthless." 

His  maternal  grandfather  in  America  heard  of  his 
remarkable  promise,  and  wrote  to  him  that  if  he  would 
come  to  America  he  would  "  make  a  man  of  him." 
Leigh  replied,  "  Men  grow  in  England  as  well  as  Amer- 
ica." The  boy  was  right,  and  so  was  his  grandfather. 
As  yet,  however,  Leigh  had  not  really  decided  to  "  make 
a  man"  of  himself.  He  was  vacillating,  unsettled  in 
his  plans  and  purposes,  more  brilliant  than  solid  and 
serious. 

He  went  to  school  at  Christ  Church  Hospital,  where 
Lamb  and  Coleridge  Avere  educated  about  the  same  time. 
In  that  day  thrashing  was  the  chief  method  of  securing 
obedience  in  school,  and  fighting  the  principal  Avay  of 
settling  difficulties  out  of  school,  all  of  which  horrified 
Leigh ;  for,  like  his  mother,  he  was  nervous,  sensitive, 
and  tender.  In  his  "Autobiography"  he  says  this  of 
his  mother :  "  The  sight  of  two  men  fighting  in  the 
streets  Avould  drive  her  in  tears  down  another  road  ;  and 
I  remember,  when  AVC  lived  near  the  park,  she  would 
take  me  a  long  circuit  out  of  the  way,  rather  than  hazard 
the  spectacle  of  the  soldiers.  Little  did  she  think  of 
the  timidity  Avith  which  she  Avas  inoculating  me,  and 
what  difficulty  I  should  have,  when  I  went  to  school,  to 
sustain  all  these  pure  theories,  and  that  unbending  resis- 
tance to  oppression  which  she  inculcated." 

Leigh  Avas  ridiculed  for  his  aversion  to  fight,  and 
taunted  as  a  coAvard  by  the  students,  until  one  day  he 


LEIGH  HUNT.  328 

arose  in  his  might,  and  thrashed  a  fellow-student  who 
added  one  too  many  to  his  cutting  taunts.  It  was  the 
only  time  he  engaged  in  a  fight;  for  his  whole  soul 
remonstrated  against  the  barbarity. 

He  left  school  at  fifteen  years  of  age,  and  for  several 
years  appears  to  have  drifted,  writing  poetry,  "joining 
as  a  private  in  the  volunteers,  who  were  called  into  ex- 
istence by  the  rumor  of  Bonaparte's  coming,  and  going 
the  round  of  the  London  theatres,  taking  his  full  of 
pleasure,"  as  one  of  his  biographers  says.  Not  a  very 
enterprising  or  promising  mode  of  life ;  and  yet  his 
time  was  not  altogether  wasted.  For  he  wrote  poetry, 
and  finally  composed  articles  in  prose  for  a  newspaper, 
in  the  meantime  reading  Goldsmith  and  other  poets,  and 
history  to  some  extent. 

At  length,  in  1805,  when  he  was  about  twenty  years 
of  age,  he  went  to  live  with  his  brother,  who  had  estab- 
lished a  journal  called  The  News.  He  went  to  work  on 
this  newspaper  with  commendable  industry  and  resolu- 
tion. More  of  his  genuine  ability  began  to  appear. 

His  labors  were  interrupted,  however,  by  a  serious  ill- 
ness, long  and  painful,  in  which  time  he  reviewed  his 
life,  saw  his  grave  mistake,  and  resolved  to  consecrate 
his  talents  to  better  work,  should  God  restore  him  to 
health.  In  his  "  Autobiography  "  he  says  of  that  sick- 
ness,- "  One  great  benefit  resulted  to  me  from  this  suffer- 
ing. It  gave  me  an  amount  of  reflection  such  as,  in  all 
probability,  I  never  should  have  had  Avithout  it;  and  if 
readers  have  derived  any  good  from  the  graver  portion 
of  my  writings,  I  attribute  it  to  this  experience  of  evil. 
It  taught  me  patience ;  it  taught  me  charity ;  it  taught 
me  charity  even  towards  myself ;  it  taught  me  the  worth 


324  TURNING  POINTS. 

of  little  pleasures,  as  well  as  the  utility  and  dignity  of 
great  pains ;  it  taught  that  evil  itself  contained  good ; 
nay,  it  taught  me  to  doubt  whether  any  such  thing  as 
evil,  considered  in  itself,  existed ;  whether  things  alto- 
gether, as  far  as  our  planet  knows  them,  could  have  been 
so  good  without  it ;  whether  the  desire,  nevertheless, " 
which  nature  has  implanted  in  us  for  its  destruction,  be 
not  the  signal  and  the  means  to  that  end ;  and  whether 
its  destruction,  finally,  will  not  prove  its  existence,  in 
the  meantime,  to  have  been  necessary  to  the  very  bliss 
that  supersedes  it." 

From  that  time  Leigh  Hunt  was  a  changed  man.  All 
crankiness  and  shiftlessness  disappeared,  with  his  inor- 
dinate love  of  pleasure  ;  and  a  determination  to  be  seri- 
ous and  useful,  and  give  the  best  possible  to  the  reading 
world,  took  possession  of  his  heart.  He  turned  into  a 
new  way,  higher,  nobler,  grander,  as  his  future  life 
proved.  Sickness  did  for  him  what  neither  schools  nor 
books  provided.  Chastisement  alone  was  sufficient  to 
produce  a  radical  change  in  his  method  of  life,  aspira- 
tions, and  endeavors.  From  that  time  he  began  to  put 
the  world  under  obligations  to  himself  as  a  literary  ben- 
efactor. A  biographer  says,  "  What  reader  of  books  is 
there  who  does  not  feel  that  he  owes  a  debt  of  gratitude 
to  Leigh  Hunt  for  his  many  beautiful  thoughts,  his 
always  cheerful  views  of  life,  and  his  generous  efforts, 
extending  over  a  period  of  half  a  century,  on  behalf  of 
the  freedom  and  happiness  of  the  human  family  ?  His 
name  is  associated  in  our  minds  with  all  manner  of  kind- 
ness, love,  beauty,  and  gentleness.  He  has  given  us  a 
fresh  insight  into  nature ;  made  the  flowers  seem  gayer, 
the  earth  greener,  the  skies  more  bright,  and  all  things 


LEIGH  HUNT.  325 

more  full  of  happiness  and  blessing.  By  the  magical 
touch  of  his  pen  he  'kissed  dead  things  to  life.'  Age, 
that  dries  up  the  geniality  of  so  many,  brought  no  change 
to  him.  To  the  last  he  was  spoken  of  as  the  'gray- 
haired  boy,'  — '  the  old-young  poet  with  gray  hairs  on 
his  head,  but  youth  in  his  eyes.' "  All  this  secured  to 
the  world  by  the  reflections  incident  to  a  sick-bed  expe- 
rience ! 

Soon  after  Leigh  Hunt  recovered  from  the  sickness 
described,  his  thoughts  were  turned  to  a  literary  publi- 
cation of  a  higher  grade  than  any  known  in  England  at 
the  time,  and  well  adapted  to  lift  humanity  to  a  higher 
plane  of  living.  His  thoughts  grew  into  a  definite  plan, 
and  the  result  was  the  establishment  of  the  Examiner, 
that  has  existed  to  this  day.  Leigh  was  not  quite  twen- 
ty-five years  of  age  when  this  publication  was  started; 
and  he  brought  to  its  support  the  ardor  and  strength  of 
his  youth,  proving  day  by  day  that  he  possessed  talents 
of  the  highest  order.  Such  literary  characters  as  Shel- 
ley, Hook,  Campbell,  Fuseli,  Matthews,  Godwin,  Bonny- 
castle,  Byron,  Keats,  Wordsworth,  and  many  others  of 
like  reputation,  became  interested  in  the  journal ;  and 
Leigh  Hunt  was  their  intimate  companion  —  a  rich  ex- 
perience and  school  to  him. 

Leigh  Hunt  was  a  fearless  writer.  He  never  minced 
matters.  He  stood  squarely  by  his  convictions.  What 
he  thought  was  right  he  defended,  never  stopping  to 
think  of  personal  sacrifice.  Therefore  the  Examiner 
criticised  public  wrongs  severely.  It  did  not  hesitate  to 
attack  the  government  itself,  and  its  highest  officials,  for 
wrong-doing.  The  consequence  was  that  government 
authorities  desired  to  silence  it,  and  suits  were  entered 


TURNING  POINTS. 


against  it;  but  none  of  them  was  successful.  The  Ex- 
aminer maintained  its  character  for  antagonizing  wrong. 

At  length,  however,  the  two  Hunt  brothers  launched 
a  quarterly  magazine,  called  the  Reflector,  in  which  the 
government  received  a  more  severe  castigation  for  wrong- 
doing than  ever.  Leigh  was  the  editor,  and  he  seems  to 
have  increased  his  intellectual  power  three  or  four  fold 
for  the  conflict  with  evil.  The  government  withstood 
four  numbers  of  the  quarterly,  just  a  year's  production, 
when  it  pounced  upon  the  proprietors  with  a  determina- 
tion to  destroy  the  publication,  Examiner,  and  all.  The 
following  account  of  it  is  from  a  reliable  source. 

"  In  it  first  appeared  Leigh  Hunt's  '  Feast  of  the 
Poets,'  in  which  he  satirized  many  of  his  Tory  con- 
temporaries ;  amongst  others,  Gifford,  the  editor  of  the 
Quarterly,  the  only  man  for  whom  he  seems  to  have  en- 
tertained a  thorough  dislike.  Amongst  the  poetical  ef- 
fusions in  the  Reflector  also  appeared  one  on  a  famous 
dinner  given  by  the  Prince  of  AVales  to  a  hundred  and 
fifty  of  his  particular  friends.  The  Prince  had  just  de- 
serted the  Whig  party,  and  gone  over  to  the  Tories,  so 
that  there  was  a  strong  savor  of  political  gall  in  the 
piece.  About  the  same  time  an  article  on  the  Prince,  in 
connection  with  the  annual  dinner  on  St.  Patrick's  Day, 
was  inserted  in  the  Examiner;  and  on  this  the  govern- 
ment fastened,  as  the  means  of  crushing  the  paper  and 
its  proprietors.  The  point  in  the  article  at  which  the 
Prince  was  understood  to  have  taken  violent  offence  was 
that  he  whom  his  adulators  styled  'An  Adonis  in  love- 
liness,' should  be  plainly  designated  as  '  a  corpulent  man 
of  fifty,'  which  he  was.  The  government  prosecution 
succeeded.  The  proprietors  of  the  paper  were  fined  one 


LEIGH  HUNT.  327 

hundred  pounds,  and  condemned  to  two  years'  imprison- 
ment, each  in  separate  jails." 

Leigh  Hunt  was  not  the  man  to  shrink  from  a  jail. 
He  had  a  clear  conscience  and  a  cheerful  heart,  and  he 
converted  the  prison  into  a  palace.  He  had  the  room 
he  occupied  papered  and  painted  in  the  best  style,  and 
friends  adorned  it  with  bric-a-brac.  A  little  yard  out- 
side he  converted  into  a  flower-garden.  Charles  Lamb 
said  of  his  room,  "  There  is  no  other  like  it  except  in  a 
fairy  tale ;  "  and  Thomas  Moore  said  of  his  garden,  after 
looking  it  over,  "  I  have  no  such  heart's-ease."  His  old 
literary  associates,  like  Lamb,  Moore,  Hazlitt,  Shelley, 
Byron,  and  others,  paid  him  frequent  visits,  and  he  was 
allowed  to  have  his  family  with  him  constantly.  Here, 
too,  all  the  books  arid  periodicals  he  desired  were  pro- 
vided, and  he  wrote  both  poetry  and  prose  for  the  Ex- 
aminer and  other  publications.  While  in  prison  his 
famous  book,  "  Story  of  Rimini,"  was  written. 

The  time  intervening  between  his  release  from  prison 
and  death,  which  occurred  Aug.  28, 1859,  was  filled  with 
literary  work,  notwithstanding  the  fact  that  his  long 
imprisonment  enfeebled  his  health.  He  wrote  many 
essays  and  poems  for  magazines  and  books ;  a  novel 
called  "  Sir  Ralph  Esher,"  "  Captain  Sword  and  Captain 
Pen,"  "  Legend  of  Florence,"  "  The  Palfrey,"  "  Imagina- 
tion and  Fancy,"  "  Wit  and  Humour,"  "  Stories  from  the 
Indian  Poets,"  "  Jar  of  Honey,"  "  Book  for  a  Corner," 
"  The  Town,"  and  contributed  largely  to  such  periodicals 
as  the  Tatlcr,  Companion,  True  Sun,  Monthly  Reporter, 
and  London  Journal. 

Like  most  of  his  literary  associates,  he  laid  by  no 
money  for  a  rainy  day.  Literary  benefactors  in  all  ages 


TURNING  POINTS. 


have  labored  mostly  for  their  food  and  clothes,  and  many 
of  them  have  depended  more  or  less  upon  friends  for 
these.  Leigh  Hunt  was  no  exception  ;  yet  he  died  a 
contented  man.  For  he  did  not  write  for  honor  or 
riches,  but  for  the  advancement  of  his  race. 


HELEN    HUNT   JACKSON. 


HELEN  HUNT  JACKSON. 


XLI. 

HELEN  HUNT  JACKSON. 

THE  CRUSHING  SORROW  THAT  INTRODUCED  HER  TO 
AUTHORSHIP. 

HELEN  HUNT  JACKSON  was  born  in  Amherst,  Mass., 
Oct.  18,  1831.  Her  father  was  Nathan  W.  Fiske,  pro- 
fessor of  languages  in  the  college.  The  daughter,  of 
course,  was  born  into  a  life  of  grand  opportunities. 
Such  parents  as  hers  would  be  satisfied  with  nothing 
less.  Helen  did  not  realize  it,  however.  She  was  bright 
and  talented,  and  she  was  headstrong  and  disobedient 
too  —  one  of  those  precocious  children  whose  wayward- 
ness awakens  great  parental  solicitude.  The  following 
story  of  her  girlhood  has  been  told  over  and  over,  and 
it  illustrates  the  temper  of  the  child  better  than  any 
mere  description. 

Helen  loved  nature,  including  trees,  flowers,  birds, 
beasts,  and  whatever  else  could  be  seen  in  a  tramp 
through  field  and  forest.  One  morning  her  mother 
gave  her  permission  to  go  into  the  field  near  by  to 
pick  checkerberries  before  school.  A  younger  sister 
and  a  neighbor's  little  daughter  accompanied  her. 
The  adjacent  forest  was  more  inviting  to  her  than 
the  checkerberries  in  the  meadow,  and  she  proposed 
that  they  scour  the  woods.  But  her  younger  sister 


330  TURNING  POINTS. 

who  was  more  thoughtful  and  obedient,  refused  to 
go.  "  It  will  be  schooltime  before  we  get  back," 
she  said,  "and  mamma  expects  us  to  go  to  school." 
Helen  urged  and  coaxed,  but  her  sister  could  not  be 
induced  to  do  wrong.  Not  so  with  the  neighbor's 
daughter,  however ;  she  consented  to  go,  and  they 
started  off  with  the  purpose  of  spending  the  day  in 
the  woods.  In  their  enjoyment  and  enthusiasm  they 
forgot  all  about  home  and  parents,  and  travelled  on, 
admiring  everything  they  saw.  After  several  hours 
they  became  very  hungry,  and  seeing  a  house  in  the 
distance  (having  just  emerged  from  the  woods  through 
which  they  had  passed),  they  hurried  forward  towards 
it.  It  was  the  home  of  a  farmer,  who  was  just  leaving 
the  house  to  attend  a  funeral  in  the  village.  Helen 
made  known  their  wants,  to  which  the  farmer's  wife 
responded  by  giving  each  of  them  a  bowl  of  bread  and 
milk.  As  they  desired  to  lock  up  their  house,  the  chil- 
dren ate  their  dinner  beside  the  garden  hedge,  and  were 
instructed  to  push  the  bowls  under  the  bushes  when 
they  left.  Helen  was  happy  as  a  queen,  with  the  free- 
dom of  forest  and  field,  and  a  bowl  of  bread  and  milk 
to  eat.  What  more  could  she  want,  or  even  ask  for. 
She  was  that  kind  of  a  girl ;  no  thought  about  a 
mother's  wishes  or  anxieties,  or  school. 

"Let  us  go  to  the  funeral,"  Helen  proposed  to  her 
companion;  and  the  proposition  was  accepted  without 
discussion.  On  they  trudged  into  the  village  of  Had- 
ley,  enjoying  the  trip  as  only  unconscious  truants  can. 
Many  vehicles  about  the  house  of  worship  told  them 
that  the  funeral  was  there.  The  bier  was  placed  out- 
side the  door,  and  they  sat  down  upon  it  to  rest  their 


HELEN  HUNT  JACKSON.  331 

weary  limbs.  But  there  was  not  excitement  enough  in 
this;  so  they  started  on,  one  of  them  losing  a  shoe  in 
the  mud,  and  both  wetting  their  feet.  "  Let  us  stop 
here  and  dry  our  stockings,"  said  Helen  to  her  com- 
panion, as  they  came  to  a  house.  The  latter  assented, 
and  "both  were  soon  regaling  themselves  with  fire  and 
food  ;  for  it  was  almost  night,  and  they  were  both  weary 
and  hungry.  While  enjoying  themselves  finely  in  this 
comfortable  home,  two  college  professors  from  Amherst 
drove  up  and  captured  them.  The  village  of  Amherst 
had  been  thoroughly  excited  over  the  disappearance  of 
the  girls,  and  searching  parties  began  late  in  the  after- 
noon to  scour  the  country  round  about.  These  two 
professors  went  in  the  direction  of  Hadley,  and  soon 
got  upon  the  trail  of  the  children. 

They  were  taken  into  the  carriage  against  the  protes- 
tation of  Helen,  who  resented  such  infringement  of  her 
liberty.  They  had  scarcely  started  upon  their  home- 
ward journey  when  Helen  leaped  out  of  the  carriage, 
determined  to  be  free.  But  she  was  soon  taken  back, 
and  was  closely  watched  and  guarded  until  delivered 
to  her  parents  about  ten  o'clock  at  night.  Helen 
walked  into  the  house  as  if  she  had  been  away  upon 
a  well-planned  excursion,  and  exclaimed,  "  0  mother ! 
I  have  had  a  perfectly  splendid  time ! "  And  that 
was  true ;  she  ran  away  in  order  to  have  a  "  splendid 
time,"  and  she  had  it.  That  she  had  done  anything 
wrong  never  entered  her  head.  That  anybody  could 
be  alarmed  at  her  absence  she  did  not  dream.  It  was 
just  one  thoughtless  episode  of  her  girl-life. 

Her  father  had  a  sound  philosophy  on  such  matters, 
and  he  waited  a  week  to  see  what  might  transpire. 


332  TURNING  POINTS. 

Then  he  called  Helen  into  his  study,  and  said,  "My 
daughter  does  not  appear  to  be  sorry  for  running  away 
last  week ;  and  now  she  may  retire  to  the  garret  where 
she  will  have  a  chance  to  think  it  over  without  inter- 
ruption. Go." 

Helen  answered  not  a  word,  nor  shed  a  tear.  'But 
she  knew  that  her  father's  yea  was  yea,  and  his  nay, 
nay.  So,  without  uttering  a  syllable,  she  retired  to  the 
attic  in  the  worst  of  temper.  Could  she  have  put  what 
she  thought  into  words,  it  would  have  been  strong  lan- 
guage. But  she  took  a  nail,  and  impressed  her  temper 
on  the  plastering  instead.  With  the  nail  she  made 
great  holes  in  the  plastered  walls.  It  was  her  way 
of  saying  that  she  was  angered  all  through,  and  defied 
her  father. 

Professor  Fiske  was  anxious  to  know  whether  his 
daughter  was  penitent  or  not ;  and  he  visited  the  attic 
after  waiting  a  proper  time.  He  discovered  no  peni- 
tence in  his  daughter,  but  saw  that  she  had  stamped 
defiance  on  the  wall.  Without  asking  or  waiting  for 
an  explanation,  he  administered  a  flogging  commensu- 
rate with  her  naughtiness,  and  kept  her  in  the  garret 
for  a  week.  Helen  always  claimed  that  his  punishment 
did  her  no  good.  If  it  did  not,  so  much  the  worse  for 
her.  For  it  was  well-deserved  and  well-timed.  How 
Mrs.  Helen  Hunt  Jackson  could  be  made  out  of  such 
a  girl,  is  not  a  conundrum;  it  will  become  clear  as 
noonday  as  we  proceed. 

When  Helen  was  twelve  years  old  her  father  and 
mother  died,  and  she  was  left  to  the  care  of  a  grand- 
father, Avho  placed  her  in  the  school  of  J.  S.  C.  Abbott, 
New  York  City.  There  was  an  atmosphere  about  this 


HELEN   HUNT  JACKSON.  333 

school  just  right  for  Helen  to  breathe  —  refreshing, 
stimulating,  inspiring.  She  began  to  realize  what  she 
was  in  this  world  for.  She  was  precocious,  in  her  way, 
in  the  Amherst  schools ;  but  here  she  began  to  be 
brilliant.  She  was  impulsive,  as  usual,  but  womanhood 
began  to  be  foreshadowed  in  her.  She  liked  the  school 
and  teachers,  and  all  her  surroundings,  and  was  happy 
and  even  studious.  She  excelled  in  conversation  and 
composition.  Her  talents  illuminated  her  school-work. 

At  twenty-one  years  of  age  she  married  Major  Ed- 
ward B.  Hunt,  who  was  an  officer  in  the  army  —  a  fine 
young  man,  a  graduate  of  West  Point,  and  of  recognized 
ability  and  promise.  Their  first  child  died ;  but  a  second 
was  born  to  them,  and  lived  to  be  ten  years  old. 

Mr.  Hunt  invented  a  submarine  gun,  and  was  experi- 
menting with  it  at  the  Brooklyn  Navy-yard,  when  he 
was  instantly  killed.  That  was  on  Oct.  2,  1863,  when 
their  son  was  eight  years  old.  The  terrible  blow  com- 
pletely prostrated  Mrs.  Hunt.  Since  her  marriage  her 
life  had  been  a  round  of  pleasures.  It  had  been  spent 
chiefly  at  Newport  and  West  Point,  where  she  enjoyed 
the  society  of  the  wealthy  and  refined.  Her  husband 
was  brother  of  Governor  Hunt  of  New  York,  a  relation- 
ship that  ushered  her  into  high  social  circles ;  so  that, 
on  every  hand,  there  was  an  appeal  to  her  love  of  pleas- 
ure constantly.  She  was  brilliant  and  beautiful  herself, 
just  the  woman  to  be  popular  and  become  a  society 
woman.  For  this  reason  she  was  poorly  prepared  for 
such  a  crushing  sorrow.  But  for  her  eight-year-old  son, 
to  whom  she  now  clung  with  a  stronger  love,  if  possible, 
she  might  have  been  completely  crushed  by  the  sorrow. 

She  was  Hearing  the  crisis.     There  was  to  be  a  turn. 


334  TURNING   POINTS. 

in  her  career,  and  Providence  was  preparing  the  way 
In  two  years  after  her  husband's  death  she  stood  by  the 
side  of  her  dying  boy.  That  dreaded  destroyer,  diphthe- 
ria, was  snatching  him  from  her  embrace.  She  was 
almost  frantic.  She  rebelled  against  the  Providence 
that  would  take  her  all.  She  would  not  be  comforted. 
In  the  midst  of  her  heart-rending  grief,  her  dear  boy 
looked  up  and  said,  "  Promise  me,  mamma,  that  you  Avill 
not  kill  yourself."  The  distracted  woman  promised,  and 
her  darling  child  passed  on. 

Mrs.  Hunt  was  inconsolable.  She  shut  herself  up  in 
her  own  room,  and  would  not  admit  her  most  familiar 
friends.  Attempts  at  consolation  seemed  to  increase 
the  poignancy  of  her  grief.  "  Any  one  who  really  loves 
me  ought  to  pray  that  I  may  die,  too,  like  Bennie,"  she 
said.  Friends  feared  that  she  would  become  insane. 
Her  physician  thought  surely  she  would  die  of  grief. 
But  she  was  going  through  the  "  fiery  trial,"  and  her 
resolute,  irrepressible  spirit  required  a  hot  furnace. 
There  was  much  gold  there,  and  the  crucial  test  must 
be  critical  enough  to  remove  the  dross.  God  was  puri- 
fying her  soul  for  the  work  of  life.  She  had  not  begun 
her  life-work  yet ;  she  had  only  been  thinking  of  herself, 
not  of  others,  having  a  good  time  in  the  world,  with  no 
thought  of  the  higher  and  nobler  things  of  which  she 
was  capable.  When  she  had  been  in  the  furnace  of 
affliction  long  enough,  she  came  forth  as  gold  tried  in  the 
fire,  a  woman  of  such  intellectual  power  and  moral  and 
spiritual  aspirations  as  to  surprise  her  dearest  friends. 
But  for  her  great  sorrow  she  might  have  continued  to 
enjoy  the  society  of  Newport  and  West  Point,  without 
knowing  that  she  possessed  talents  to  bless  the. world. 


HELEN  HUNT  JACKSON.  335 

Her  terrible  bereavement  developed  both  mind  and  heart. 
Three  or  four  months  after  the  death  of  Bennie,  she 
wrote  her  first  poem,  which  we  give  below ;  and  it 
proves  beyond  a  doubt  that  the  turning-point  of  her 
life  was  her  overwhelming  sorrow.  The  title  of  the 
poem  was  "Lifted  Over;"  and  it  was  published  in  the 
Nation. 

"  As  tender  mothers,  guiding  baby  steps, 
When  places  come  at  which  the  tiny  feet 
Would  trip,  lift  np  the  little  ones  in  arms 
Of  love,  and  set  them  down  beyond  the  harm, 
So  did  our  Father  watch  the  precious  boy, 
Led  o'er  the  stones  by  me,  who  stumbled  oft 
Myself,  but  strove  to  help  my  darling  on ; 
He  saw  the  sweet  limbs  faltering,  and  saw 
Rough  ways  before  us,  where  my  arms  would  fail; 
So  reached  from  heaven,  and  lifting  the  dear  child, 
Who  smiled  in  leaving  me,  He  put  him  down 
Beyond  all  hurt,  beyond  my  sight,  and  bade 
Him  wait  for  me!     Shall  I  not  then  be  glad, 
And,  thanking  God,  press  on  to  overtake?" 

The  poem  created  widespread  interest,  for  it  was 
copied  and  sent  all  over  the  land.  And  here  com- 
menced her  literary  career,  when  she  was  thirty-four 
years  of  age.  She  became  the  author  of  some  of  the 
finest  literary  productions  known.  Among  her  works 
are  the  following,  "Bits  of  Travel,"  "Bits  of  Talks 
About  Home  Matters/'  "  Bits  of  Talks  for  Young  Peo- 
ple," "  Bits  of  Travel  at  Home,"  "Nellie's  Silver-mine," 
"The  Story  of  Boon,"  "Mammy  Tittleback  and  Her 
Family,"  "The  Training  of  Children,"  "Mercy  Phil- 
brick's  Choice,"  "  Hetty's  Strange  History,"  "  Sonnets 
and  Lyrics/'  "A  Century  of  Dishonor/'  "Bamona,"  with 


336  TURNING   POINTS. 

others.  She  wrote  much  for  periodicals.  One  of  her 
first  articles  was  published  in  the  Independent,  for  which 
journal  she  wrote,  subsequently,  three  hundred  and  sev- 
enty articles. 

In  1869  she  went  abroad.  On  her  return  she  devoted 
herself  to  the  cause  of  the  American  Indian,  and  it  was 
out  of  her  labors  in  this  philanthropic  sphere  that  her 
"Century  of  Dishonor"  and  "Ramona"  grew.  In  1875 
s-he  went  to  Colorado  for  her  health.  There,  in  1876, 
she  married  a  wealthy  Christian  banker,  by  the  name 
of  William  S.  Jackson ;  and  their  home  was  at  Colorado 
Springs,  visited  by  literary  men  and  women  from  all 
lands.  Here  she  was  constantly  engaged  in  writing 
useful  books  and  performing  deeds  of  philanthropy. 
She  was  regarded  as  one  of  the  most  remarkable  women 
of  her  day. 

In  1884  an  accident  caused  declining  health,  and  she 
was  taken  to  San  Francisco  for  relief.  On  entering  her 
apartments  in  that  city,  and  looking  out  upon  the  bay  in 
front,  she  said,  "  I  did  not  imagine  it  was  so  pleasant ! 
What  a  beautiful  place  to  die  in."  She  had  surrendered 
all  hope  of  living,  although  her  friends  had  not;  and 
a  delightful  Christian  spirit  pervaded  her  daily  life. 
She  wrote  to  a  friend  :  — 

"  You  must  not  think,  because  I  speak  of  not  getting 
well,  that  I  am  sad  over  it.  On  the  contrary,  I  am  more 
and  more  relieved  in  my  mind  as  it  seems  to  grow  more 
and  more  sure  that  I  shall  die.  You  see  that  I  am  grow- 
ing old,  and  I  do  believe  that  my  work  is  done.  You 
have  never  realized  how,  for  the  past  five  years,  my 
whole  soul  has  been  centred  on  the  Indian  question. 
" Ramona"  was  the  outcome  of  these  five  years.  The, 


HELEN  HUNT  JACKSON.  337 

Indian  cause  is  on  its  feet  now ;  powerful  friends  are  at 
work."  Again  she  wrote  :  "  I  am  heartily,  honestly,  and 
cheerfully  ready  to  go.  In  fact,  I  am  glad  to  go.  Death 
is  only  just  passing  from  one  country  to  another." 

She  died  in  San  Francisco,  Aug.  12,  1885.  She  wrote 
her  last  poem  only  a  few  days  before  her  decease,  and  it 
breathes  the  beautiful  spirit  of  resignation  and  cheerful 
hope  that  characterized  her  life  after  she  was  tried  in 
the  furnace  of  affliction. 

"Father,  I  scarcely  dare  to  pray, 
So  clear  I  see,  now  it  is  done, 
That  I  have  wasted  half  my  day, 
And  left  my  work  but  just  begun  ; 

So  clear  I  see  that  things  I  thought 
Were  right  and  harmless  were  a  sin  ; 

So  clear  I  see  that  I  have  sought, 
Unconscious,  selfish  aim  to  win  ; 

So  clear  I  see  that  I  have  hurt 
The  souls  I  might  have  helped  to  save, 

That  I  have  slothful  been,  inert, 
Deaf  to  the  calls  thy  leaders  gave. 

In  outskirts  of  thy  kingdoms  vast, 
Father,  the  humblest  spot  give  me  ; 

Set  me  the  loAvliest  task  thou  hast, 
Let  me,  repentant,  work  for  thee!" 


338  TURNING  POINTS. 


XLIL 

BENJAMIN  WEST. 

-THE  FRIENDS'  COUNCIL  THAT  VOTED  HIM  A  PAINTER. 

IN  the  first  half  of  the  last  century,  there  lived  in 
Springfield,  Chester  County,  Peun.,  a  Quaker  family  of 
much  intelligence  and  standing, 'by  the  name  of  "West. 
The  parents  were  conscientiously  devoted  to  their  sect, 
and  their  children  were  reared  to  respect  the  religious 
opinions  of  that  class.  Of  the  nine  sons  and  daughters 
in  the  family,  Benjamin  was  the  youngest,  born  Oct.  10, 
1738.  Very  early  in  life  he  exhibited  a  decided  talent 
for  sketching  portraits,  and  would  do  it  with  remarkable 
accuracy.  At  seven  years  of  age  he  was  directed  to  keep 
the  flies  off  the  sleeping  babe  of  his  eldest  sister.  He 
was  so  attracted  by  the  beauty  of  the  child  at  sleep  that 
he  proceeded  to  sketch  its  portrait  with  black  and  red 
ink  that  he  found  in  the  room,  and  completed  the  picture 
before  any  member  of  the  family  returned  to  look  after 
the  baby.  Then  his  mother  came  in,  and  looking  at  the 
picture  of  the  babe  he  had  drawn,  exclaimed,  "  I  de- 
clare, he  has  made  a  likeness  of  little  Sally,  and  it  is 
perfect."  In  her  surprise  and  wonder  she  kissed  the 
artist  boy,  praised  his  work,  and  encouraged  him  to 
go  on.  The  whole  family  were  delighted  with  the 
accuracy  with  which  the  baby-likeness  was  drawn. 


BENJAMIN   WEST.  339 

and  it  became  the  theme  of  remark  in  the  family  and 
neighborhood. 

Indians  were  plenty  and  friendly  in  that  region.  Ben- 
jamin was  familiar  with  them,  and  he  learned  from  them 
the  use  of  red  and  yellow  colors  with  which  they  deco- 
rated their  belts  and  ornaments.  Before  that,  however, 
he  used  charcoal  and  chalk  mixed  with  the  juice  of  ber- 
ries, and  manufactured  his  brushes  with  material  drawn 
from  the  old  cat's  tail.  With  these,  after  he  drew  the 
likeness  of  the  baby  as  narrated,  he  sketched  all  the 
members  of  a  neighboring  family  on  a  sheet  of  paper, 
and  did  it  with  so  much  tact  and  correctness 'that  it  was 
considered  wonderful.  When  he  was  twelve  years  old  he 
made  a  portrait  of  himself,  a  feat  which  artists  regard  as 
a  difficult  task.  It  was  a  very  good  portrait  too.  By  this 
time  he  was  known  throughout  that  region  as  a  born 
artist,  and  there  was  much  talk  about  the  chance  his 
parents  ought  to  give  him  to  become  renowned. 

In  other  respects  he  was  a  promising  boy.  Of  a  mild 
and  gentle  disposition,  obedient,  and  affectionate,  he 
was  a  pet  in  the  household.  He  was  quick  to  learn,  and 
improved  his  schooldays  with  commendable  application. 
At  the  same  time  his  thoughts  dwelt  chiefly  upon  art ; 
and  he  seems  to  have  had  an  exalted  idea  of  a  painter's 
calling,  and  the  opposite  opinion  of  some  other  pursuits. 
For  example,  as  he  was  riding  with  another  boy  one  day, 
their  conversation  turned  upon  what  occupation  they 
would  follow  in  manhood.  "  I  will  be  a  tailor,"  said 
Benjamin's  companion,  and  he  went  on  to  extol  the  ad- 
vantages of  that  trade. 

"  And  do  you  really  mean  to  be  a  tailor  ?  "  inquired 
West. 


340  TURNING  POINTS. 

"Indeed.  I  do,"  answered  the  boy,  without  the  least 
reserve. 

"  Then  you  may  ride  alone,"  responded  Benjamin, 
leaping  from  the  carriage ;  "  I  mean  to  be  a  painter,  the 
companion  of  kings  and  emperors.  I'll  not  ride  with  a 
boy  who  is  willing  to  be  a  tailor." 

He  got  bravely  over  this  freak  later  on,  if  he  ever 
meant  anything  by  it. 

From  year  to  year  it  became  more  and  more  evident 
that  Benjamin  possessed  great  talents  for  an  artist.  He 
could  not  be  denied  pencil  and  brush.  He  improved 
every  opportunity  to  gratify  his  genius.  But  it  was  not 
according  to  the  religious  belief  of  Quakers  to  make  ar- 
tists of  their  children.  No  matter  what  precocity  in 
this  direction  Benjamin  might  exhibit,  his  parents  could 
not  consent  to  his  becoming  a  painter  without  violating 
Quaker  rules.  They  were  observing  and  wise,  and  were 
perfectly  satisfied  that  Benjamin  would  distinguish  him- 
self in  art,  and  they  wanted  to  provide  him  with  the 
opportunity.  How  could  it  be  done  ?  Some  of  the 
Quakers  thought  it  would  be  wrong,  and  did  not  hesi- 
tate to  say  so.  Others  said  that,  if  Benjamin  were  their 
son,  they  would  make  him  a  painter  in  spite  of  all  the 
Quakers  in  Christendom.  Thus  the  matter  was  dis- 
cussed, pro  and  con,  the  whole  community  becoming 
interested  in  the  result.  A  large  majority  of  even  the 
Quakers,  however,  were  in  favor  of  making  a  painter  of 
the  boy. 

Benjamin's  parents  wanted  to  do  right ;  and,  most  of 
all,  they  desired  to  avoid  all  difficulty  with  the  sect  to 
which  they  were  religiously  attached.  They  would 
rather  make  a  tailor  of  him  than  have  trouble  in  the 


BENJAMIN  WEST.  341 

church.  So  when  it  was  proposed  by  a  wise  woman 
to  submit  the  question  to  a  Quaker  council,  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  West  accepted  the  proposition  as  the  best  way  out 
of  the  difficulty.  If  the  council  should  decide  against 
making  a  painter  of  their  child,  they  would  submit 
gracefully.  The  council  was  summoned;  and  as  soon 
as  the  assembly  was  called  to  order,  one  of  the  number 
arose  solemnly,  and  said,  "  God  hath  bestowed  on  this 
youth  a  genius  for  art ;  shall  we  question  his  wisdom  ? 
I  see  the  divine  hand  in  this.  We  shall  do  well  to  sanc- 
tion the  art,  and  encourage  this  youth."  The  speaker 
sat  down  as  seriously  as  he  arose ;  and  then  the  women 
of  the  assembly,  one  after  another,  arose  and  kissed  the 
born  artist,  who  was  seated  in  the  centre  of  the  room 
with  his  parents  near  him.  Afterwards  the  men,  one 
after  another,  arose  and  laid  their  hands  on  Benjamin's 
head  in  benediction.  All  seemed  moved  by  the  spirit 
in  the  same  direction,  and  Quaker  discipline  was  ignored. 
After  other  forms  and  demonstrations,  it  was  announced 
that  "  Benjamin  West  was  solemnly  consecrated  to  the 
service  of  the  Great  Art."  Instead  of  destroying  a  great 
painter,  the  council  saved  him. 

At  sixteen  Benjamin  was  sent  to  Philadelphia,  where 
he  could  have  the  best  of  instruction,  and  access  to  all 
the  great  paintings  of  the  city.  His  instruction  was  in 
portrait-painting,  with  intervals  of  time  which  he  de- 
voted to  copying  celebrated  pictures.  He  became  so 
intensely  interested  in  his  work,  that  he  scarcely  gave 
himself  time  to  eat  and  sleep.  The  result  was  a  severe 
sickness,  in  which  a  high  fever  raged  until  he  was 
thought  to  be  delirious,  though  it  turned  out  to  be  his 
way  of  inventing  a  camera  obscura.  It  was  on  this 
wise,  as  narrated  by  one  of  his  biographers :  — 


342  TURNING  POINTS. 

"As  he  was  lying  in  bed,  slowly  recovering  from  a 
fever,  he  was  surprised  to  see  the  form  of  a  white  cow 
enter  at  one  side  of  the  roof,  and,  walking  over  the  bed, 
gradually  vanish  at  the  other.  The  phenomenon  sur- 
prised him  exceedingly,  and  he  feared  that  his  mind  was 
impaired  by  his  disease,  which  his  sister  also  suspected, 
when,  on  entering  to  inquire  how  he  felt  himself,  he 
related  to  her  what  he  had  seen.  She  soon  left  the 
room,  and  informed  her  husband,  who  accompanied  her 
back  to  the  apartment ;  and  as  they  were  both  standing 
near  the  bed,  West  repeated  the  story,  exclaiming  that 
he  saw,  at  the  very  moment  in  which  he  was  speaking, 
several  little  pigs  running  along  the  roof.  This  con- 
firmed them  in  the  apprehension  of  his  delirium,  and 
they  sent  for  a  physician  ;  but  his  pulse  was  regular, 
the  skin  moist  and  cool,  the  thirst  abated,  and,  indeed, 
everything  about  the  patient  indicated  convalescence. 
Still,  the  painter  persisted  in  his  story,  and  assured 
them  that  he  then  saw  the  figures  of  several  of  their 
mutual  friends  passing  on  the  roof,  over  the  bed ;  and 
that  he  even  saw  fowls  picking,  and  the  very  stones  of 
the  street.  All  this  seemed  to  them  very  extraordinary, 
for  their  eyes,  not  accustomed  to  the  gloom  of  the  cham- 
ber, could  discover  nothing ;  and  the  physician  himself, 
in  spite  of  the  symptoms,  began  to  suspect  that  the  con- 
valescent was  really  delirious.  Prescribing,  therefore,  a 
composing  mixture,  he  took  his  leave,  requesting  Mrs. 
Clarkson  and  her  husband  to  come  away  and  not  disturb 
the  patient.  After  they  had  retired  the  artist  got  up, 
determined  to  find  out  the  cause  of  the  strange  appari- 
tions which  had  so  alarmed  them  all.  In  a  short  time 
he  discovered  a  diagonal  knot-hole  in  one  of  the  window- 


BENJAMIN   WEST.  343 

shutters,  and  upon  placing  his  hand  over  it,  the  vision- 
ary paintings  on  the  roof  disappeared.  This  confirmed 
him  in  an  opinion  that  he  began  to  form,  that  there 
must  be  some  simple,  natural  cause  for  what  he  had 
seen ;  and  having  thus  ascertained  the  way  in  which  it 
acted,  he  called  his  sister  and  her  husband  into  the 
room,  and  explained  to  them.  He  profited  by  this  in- 
vestigation ;  made  a  box  with  one  of  its  sides  per- 
forated, and  thus,  without  ever  having  heard  of  the 
invention,  contrived  a  camera  obscura." 

For  good  reasons  it  was  thought  best  for  the  young 
artist  to  remove  to  New  York,  where  he  pursued  his 
studies  for  nearly  a  year.  Here  his  remarkable  genius 
created  an  interest  among  a  class  of  wealthy  men,  one 
of  them  the  father  of  General  Wayne.  They  said  that 
he  ought  to  be  sent  to  Italy,  to  enjoy  the  best  advan- 
tages that  land  of  art  could  afford.  When  he  returned 
to  Philadelphia  he  was  engaged  on  a  portrait  for  a  rich 
merchant  of  New  York,  by  the  name  of  Kelley.  On 
completing  the  portrait,  and  sending  it  to  New  York,  he 
mentioned  his  purpose  of  going  to  Italy,  whereupon 
Mr.  Kelley  sent  him  a  present  of  fifty  guineas  to  aid 
in  defraying  his  expenses.  He  had  abundant  pecuniary 
means  to  pay  his  bills  in  Italy ;  for  friends  rose  up  on 
every  hand  and  proffered  assistance.  He  reached  Rome 
on  the  10th  of  July,  1760. 

He  had  a  letter  of  introduction  to  Cardinal  Albani, 
who  was  old,  and  nearly  blind.  The  cardinal  received  the 
young  artist  with  fatherly  consideration  ;  and,  in  order 
to  judge  of  his  features,  passed  his  hand  over  his  face. 
"  This  young  savage,"  he  said,  "  has  good  features ; 
but  what  is  his  complexion  ?  Is  he  black  or  white  ?  " 


344  TURNING  POINTS. 

"The  gentleman  who  introduced  West  answered, 
"He  is  very  fair." 

"  What ! "  exclaimed  the  cardinal,  "  fair  as  I  am  ?  " 
As  the  cardinal  was  exceedingly  plain,  the  remark 
caused  considerable  merriment. 

West  spent  three  years  in  Italy,  and  his  genius  was 
universally  recognized  among  artists  and  judges  of  art. 
He  designed  to  return  to  his  native  land ;  but  he  found 
so  many  friends  in  England  among  its  great  men,  like 
Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  Burke,  Lord  Nelson,  and  Dr. 
Johnson,  that  he  resolved  to  settle  in  London.  His 
fame  was  established  in  an  incredibly  brief  period. 
Young  King  George  III.  became  his  warm  friend, 
and  engaged  him  to  paint,  "  The  Departure  of  Regu- 
lus."  Lord  Rockingham  offered  him  a  salary  of  three 
thousand,  five  hundred  dollars  a  year  to  produce  pictures 
for  his  costly  family  mansion  ;  but  West  declined  the 
offer,  because  he  desired  to  keep  before  the  public.  He 
was  then  regarded  as  the  foremost  of  living  historical 
painters. 

He  was  now  twenty-seven  years  old,  with  a  business 
that  warranted  the  support  of  a  wife.  He  sent  to 
America  for  his  affianced ;  and  his  father  accompanied 
her  to  London,  where  they  were  married. 

A  volume  of  considerable  size  would  be  required  to 
contain  the  names  and  description  of  all  of  West's 
famous  paintings.  King  George  III.  gave  him  an  order 
for  thirty  large  pictures,  illustrative  of  revealed  reli- 
gion, for  a  new  chapel  at  Windsor  Castle.  He  designed 
all  of  them,  and  completed  twent}T-eight,  one  of  the  lar- 
gest, costliest,  and  noblest  orders  ever  filled  by  a  painter. 
We  cannot  state  the  exact  number  of  his  paintings ;  but 


BENJAMIN   WEST.  345 

it  has  been  claimed  that  they  would  fill  a  gallery  four 
hundred  feet  long,  fifty  wide,  and  forty  high.  He  was 
paid  over  a  half-million  dollars  for  work  in  England 
alone. 

He  died  in  London,  March  11,  1820,  and  was  buried 
with  the  pomp  that  had  characterized  the  burial  of 
royal  personages,  in  St.  Paul's  Cathedral. 

Mr.  Gait  writes  of  him,  "  As  an  artist  he  will  stand 
in  the  first  rank.  His  name  will  be  classed  with  those 
of  Michael  Angelo  and  Raffaelle ;  but  he  possessed  little 
m  common  with  either.  He  undoubtedly  possessed  but 
in  a  slight  degree  that  energy  and  physical  expression  of 
character  in  which  Michael  Angelo  excelled,  and  in  a 
still  less  degree  that  serene  sublimity  which  constitutes 
the  charm  of  Raffaelle's  great  productions ;  but  he  was 
their  equal  in  the  fulness,  the  perspicuity,  and  the  pro- 
priety of  his  compositions.  In  all  his  great  works,  the 
scene  intended  to  be  brought  before  the  spectator  is 
represented  in  such  a  manner  that  the  imagination 
has  nothing  to  supply.  The  incident,  the  time,  and 
the  place  are  there  as  we  think  they  must  have  been; 
and  it  is  this  wonderful  force  of  conception  which  ren- 
ders the  sketches  of  Mr.  West  so  extraordinary." 


346  TURNING  POINTS. 


XLIII. 

BENJAMIN  FRANKLIN. 

THE    RASH    DEED    THAT    WAS    OVERRULED    TO    MAKE    A 
PHILOSOPHER. 

BANCROFT  says  of  Franklin,  "  Not  half  of  Franklin's 
merits  have  been  told.  He  was  the  true  father  of  the 
American  Union.  It  was  he  who  went  forth  to  lay 
the  foundation  of  that  great  design  at  Albany;  and  in 
New  York  he  lifted  up  his  voice.  Here  among  us  he 
appeared  as  the  apostle  of  the  Union.  It  was  Franklin 
who  suggested  the  Congress  of  1774 ;  and  but  for  his 
wisdom,  and  the  confidence  that  wisdom  inspired,  it  is  a 
matter  of  doubt  whether  that  Congress  would  have  taken 
effect.  It  was  Franklin  who  suggested  the  bond  of  the 
Union  which  binds  these  States  from  Florida  to  Maine. 
Franklin  was  the  greatest  diplomatist  of  the  eighteenth 
century.  He  never  spoke  a  word  too  soon.  He  never 
spoke  a  word  too  much.  He  never  failed  to  speak  the 
right  word  at  the  right  season." 

And  yet  Benjamin  Franklin's  early  life  was  a  struggle 
with  poverty,  obscurity,  difficulties,  and  hardships.  He 
was  born  on  Sunday,  Jan.  6,  1706,  old  style,  on  what  is 
now  Franklin  Street,  Boston.  On  the  afternoon  of  the 
same  day  he  was  wrapped  in  blankets,  and  taken  into 
the  Old  South  Church,  which  was  just  across  the  street, 


BENJAMIN    FRANKLIN. 


BENJAMIN  FRANKLIN.  347 

fifty  feet  distant,  and  baptized  by  the  Rev.  Samuel  Wil- 
lard.  He  was  the  fifteenth  child  of  Josiah  and  Abiah 
Franklin,  just  as  welcome  to  these  Christian  parents  as 
the  first,  fifth,  or  tenth  was.  He  had  a  good  home,  good 
instructions,  and  good  books.  He  learned  to  read  when 
he  was  quite  young.  In  manhood  he  said,  "  I  do  not 
remember  when  I  could  not  read,  so  it  must  have  been 
very  early."  He  was  an  irrepressible  little  fellow,  whose 
intuition  and  observation  were  better  than  school ;  al- 
ways learning  more  out  of  school  than  he  did  in  it. 

The  first  spending-money  ever  given  to  him  was  when 
he  was  seven  years  old.  It  was  on  a  holiday ;  and  he 
was  allowed  to  go  out  alone,  and  spend  the  money  as  he 
pleased.  About  the  first  person  he  met  was  a  boy  blow- 
ing a  whistle.  He  was  charmed  by  the  music,  and  in 
ten  minutes  invested  all  his  money  in  a  whistle,  paying 
twice  what  it  was  worth.  He  was  satisfied,  however. 
He  wanted  nothing  more.  He  had  seen  all  he  wanted 
to  see.  He  had  bought  all  he  wanted  to  buy.  The  whole 
holiday  was  crowded  into  that  whistle.  To  him  that 
was  all  there  was  of  it.  Sweetmeats  and  knick-knacks 
had  no  attractions  for  him.  Military  parade  had  no 
charm  for  him;  for  he  could  parade  himself  now.  A 
band  of  music  had  lost  its  fascination,  now  that  he 
had  become  a  band  himself.  He  went  home  directly, 
to  be  laughed  at  by  his  brothers  and  sisters  for  "paying 
too  dear  for  the  whistle."  Many  years  afterward  he 
wrote  of  this  holiday's  experience,  "  This,  however,  was 
afterwards  of  use  to  me,  the  impression  continuing  on 
my  mind  ;  so  that  often,  when  I  was  tempted  to  buy 
some  unnecessary  thing,  I  said  to  myself,  '  Don't  give  too 
much  for  the  whistle  ; '  and  I  saved  my  money." 


348  TURNING   POINTS. 

Benjamin  learned  to  read  before  his  parents  dreamed 
of  such  a  thing;  for  he  had  no  teachers.  When  he 
began  his  schooldays,  at  eight  years  of  age,  he  was  a 
great  reader,  and  had  laid  up  much  knowledge.  He 
attended  Mr.  Nathaniel  Williams's  school  one  year,  when 
he  was  sent  one  term  to  that  of  Mr.  Brownell  to  receive 
additional  instruction  in  penmanship  and  arithmetic. 
This  completed  his  schooldays,  for  the  poverty  of  his 
father  made  it  necessary  for  Benjamin  to  assist  him 
in  making  candles.  He  could  cut  wicks,  fill  the  moulds 
for  cast  candles,  keep  the  shop  in  order,  run  hither  and 
thither  on  errands,  and  do  other  things  to  save  his 
father's  time. 

Benjamin  was  a  tallow-chandler  at  ten,  but  he  did  not 
like  the  business  at  all,  and  his  father  permitted  him  to 
learn  cutlery;  but  disagreement  about  terms  with  the 
proprietor  caused  him  to  abandon  that  trade.  In  the 
meantime  his  brother  James  returned  from  England, 
where  he  went  to  learn  the  art  of  printing,  and  opened 
a  printing-office  in  Boston.  Benjamin  was  apprenticed 
to  him  until  he  became  of  age.  This  was  a  pursuit 
according  to  his  taste,  and  he  devoted  himself  to  it  with 
all  his  heart.  It  brought  him  into  a  new  relation  to 
thought  and  knowledge,  through  the  matter  printed.  A 
new  love  for  books  took  possession  of  him.  He  offered 
to  board  himself  for  half  what  it  cost  his  brother  to 
board  him,  and  the  proposition  was  accepted.  By  this 
arrangement  he  saved  money  to  expend  for  books ;  and 
at  noon  he  saved  nearly  an  hour  for  reading,  by  dining 
on  a  single  roll  and  drinking  a  glass  of  water. 

When  Benjamin  had  been  in  the  printing-office  three 
years,  his  brother  started  a  newspaper,  the  third  one 


BENJAMIN  FRANKLIN.  349 

in  the  country.  It  was  called  The  New  England  Cou- 
rant,  the  first  number  bearing  date  Aug.  21, 1721.  There 
was  one  newspaper  in  Boston  at  the  time,  The  Boston 
News-Letter,  very  small,  the  size  of  a  half-sheet  of  letter 
paper,  about  the  size  of  an  eight-by-twelve  pane  of  glass. 
There  was  also  The  American  Weekly  Mercury  in  Phil- 
adelphia. James  Franklin  thought  that  a  third  neAVS- 
paper  might  be  supported  in  the  country,  though  most 
people  considered  it  a  visionary  scheme. 

The  paper  was  launched,  and  it  proved  a  godsend  for 
Benjamin.  He  was  intensely  interested  in  the  enter- 
prise, and  soon  began  to  write  for  its  columns  sharp 
criticisms  on  the  times,  and  crisp,  witty  paragraphs.  It 
was  here  that  his  talent  for  writing  first  appeared ;  and 
when  it  became  known  that  certain  articles  were  written 
by  young  Ben  Franklin,  the  surprise  and  interest  were 
great.  In  his  boyhood,  at  home,  he  had  read  "  Pilgrim's 
Progress,"  "  Grace  Abounding,"  "  Holy  War,"  Defoe's 
"Essay  On  Projects,"  Cotton  Mather's  "Essay  To  Do 
Good,"  Plutarch's  "Lives,"  Burton's  "Historical  Collec- 
tions," and  a  few  other  books  which  his  father  owned. 
But  at  sixteen,  when  his  fame  as  a  talented  boy  was 
known  to  patrons  of  the  printing-office,  one  Matthew 
Adams  invited  him  to  visit  his  library  at  any  time,  and 
take  out  such  books  as  he  pleased.  From  that  time 
Benjamin  revelled  in  books ;  and  he  often  turned  night 
into  day  that  he  might  make  the  contents  of  certain 
volumes  his  own.  At  one  time  his  brother  was  impris- 
oned for  attacking  the  government  in  the  columns  of  the 
Courant;  and  then  Benjamin  became  its  editor,  perhaps 
the  youngest  editor  ever  known  in  the  United  States. 

But  James   Franklin  was   overbearing   and  without 


350  TURNING   POINTS. 

natural  affection ;  he  did  not  treat  Benjamin  as  a  brother 
at  all.  He  abused  him ;  often  scolded  and  struck  him 
when  his  temper  was  up.  Once  he  attempted  to  flog 
him ;  but  Benjamin  defended  himself  and  soon  brought 
the  encounter  to  an  end.  At  length  Benjamin  resolved 
to  quit  his  brother  and  go  to  New  York,  and  so  told 
him.  Believing  that  his  father  and  brother  would  pre- 
vent his  leaving  Boston,  unless  he  left  clandestinely,  he 
planned  to  sail  for  New  York  without  their  knowledge. 
He  sold  most  of  his  books,  and  thereby  added  to  his 
funds  for  his  adventure.  He  left  Boston  without  divul- 
ging his  plans  to  any  one  but  his  familiar  friend,  John 
Collins. 

Runaways  usually  run  to  the  bad.  That  Benjamin 
was  an  exception  to  the  rule  does  not  prove  that  run- 
ning away  is  wise  or  proper.  It  was  just  as  unfilial  and 
reckless  for  this  young  printer  to  run  away  as  for  any 
other  boy  to  do  it.  But  his  rash  deed  was  overruled  for 
good  by  a  wise  Providence.  It  proved  to  be  the  turning- 
point  of  his  career.  So  talented  a  youth  must  have  won 
for  himself  a  good  reputation  in  Boston,  or  he  would 
not  have  been  introduced  to  that  field  of  conduct,  where 
he  became,  as  Bancroft  says,  "the  true  father  of  the 
American  Union."  He  who  makes  the  wrath  of  man 
praise  Him  is  quite  able  to  overrule  an  elder  brother's 
cruelty  and  a  younger  brother's  thoughtlessness,  for  the 
welfare  of  mankind. 

Benjamin  could  not  find  work  in  New  York ;  so  he 
proceeded  to  Philadelphia,  where  he  arrived  on  Sunday 
morning,  hungry,  dirty,  shabby.  Going  up  Market 
Street,  he  stepped  into  a  bakery,  and  purchased  "  three 
pennyworth  of  bread."  To  his  surprise  three  large  rolls 


BENJAMIN  FRANKLIN.  351 

were  given  to  him ;  and  taking  one  under  each  arm,  and 
the  third  in  his  right  hand,  he  continued  up  the  street 
eating  it.  He  was  a  sight  to  behold  —  a  walking  com- 
edy. His  best  suit  of  clothes  was  in  his  trunk,  and  the 
one  on  his  back  was  much  the  worse  for  wear.  He  was 
an  embryo  "  Minister  Plenipotentiary  to  the  Court  of 
France,"  but  his  appearance  was  that  of  a  shack. 

Benjamin  found  work  in  the  printing-office  of  one 
Reimer,  and  boarded  in  the  family  of  Mr.  Reed,  whose 
daughter  he  married  some  years  afterwards.  From  the 
beginning  of  his  life  in  Philadelphia,  his  career  was 
onward  and  upward.  His  intelligence,  knowledge,  love 
of  books,  and  good  habits  won  for  him  a  strong  position. 
He  drew  about  himself  a  class  of  young  men  known  for 
their  thirst  for  learning  and  efforts  at  self -improvement. 
"  The  Junto  "  was  the  name  of  the  literary  club  which 
they  organized,  and  in  which  Benjamin  Franklin  devel- 
oped rapidly  his  intellectual  strength. 

After  a  residence  of  seven  or  eight  months  in  Phila- 
delphia, Benjamin  returned  to  Boston  on  a  flying  visit 
to  his  parents.  They  had  not  heard  a  syllable  from  him 
since  he  left,  and  were  mourning  over  him  as  dead.  His 
return  was  a  great  surprise  to  them,  and  their  joy  was 
boundless.  The  result  of  the  visit  was  complete  recon- 
ciliation, and  a  return  to  his  work  in  Philadelphia  a  hap- 
pier son  and  brother.  Subsequently  he  went  to  England 
and  worked  in  the  printing-office  of  one  Watts,  near  Lin- 
coln's Inn  Field,  London.  Here  his  studious  habits  con- 
tinued, and  he  wrote  some  essays  that  surprised  his 
employer  by  their  critical  and  elaborate  character.  On 
account  of  his  teetotal  principles  he  was  called  "our 
water-drinker."  Every  other  employee  used  beer  and 


352  TURFING   POINTS. 

ale,  or  something  stronger.  One  day  a  fellow-workman 
inquired,  "  Are  all  Americans  like  you  ?  "  referring  to 
his  temperance  views.  "  No,"  answered  Benjamin,  "  I 
am  sorry  to  say  that  a  great  many  of  them  are  like  you." 
What  surprised  them  was  that  a  man  who  drank  water 
only  could  lift  more,  set  more  type  in  a  day,  and  do  bet- 
ter work,  than  any  other  printer  in  the  office.  Benjamin 
returned  from  England  in  1826,  when  he  was  twenty 
years  of  age. 

At  thirty  years  of  age  Benjamin  Franklin  was  a  lead- 
ing citizen  of  Philadelphia.  He  had  a  printing  estab- 
lishment of  his  own,  published  a  paper  called  The 
Pennsylvania  Gazette,  editing  it  himself,  issued  annu- 
ally Poor  Richard's  Almanac,  which  was  filled  with 
many  of  his  striking  maxims  that  challenged  public 
attention ;  and,  at  the  same  time,  he  was  postmaster  of 
the  city,  clerk  of  the  Assembly,  and  leader  generally  in 
establishing  a  night-watch  and  fire  department  for  the 
city,  and  in  organizing  the  State  militia.  He  was 
founder  of  the  University  of  Philadelphia  also.  His 
income  was  large,  too,  and  he  was  laying  the  foundation 
of  a  fortune. 

At  forty-two  years  of  age  Franklin  secured  a  partner, 
that  he  might  be  relieved  from  the  duties  of  the  printing- 
office  and  devote  himself  to  science.  He  had  become 
widely  known  as  a  philosopher  even  then,  although  he 
had  given  only  fragments  of  time  to  scientific  research. 
But  from  this  time  onward  his  advancement  in  science 
was  rapid.  His  fame  spread  abroad,  both  in  Europe 
and  America,  so  that  in  a  few  years  he  became  one  of 
the  most  renowned  philosophers  in  the  world.  His  ex- 
periment with  the  kite  in  a  thunder-storm  to  prove  that 


BENJAMIN  FRANKLIN.  353 

lightning  and  the  electric  fluid  are  identical,  placed  him 
at  the  head  of  students  of  electricity.  He  was  elected  a 
member  of  the  Royal  Society  of  London,  which  bestowed- 
upon  him  the  Copley  medal  the  next  year.  Yale  College 
conferred  upon  hiin  the  degree  of  Master  of  Arts,  and 
Harvard  the  same.  The  Academy  of  Science  of  Paris 
made  him  an  associate  member,  as  it  had  Newton  and 
Leibnitz.  All  the  learned  bodies  of  Europe  admitted 
him  into  their  ranks.  Kant,  the  celebrated  German 
philosopher,  called  him  "  the  Prometheus  of  modern 
times."  Mignet  said  of  him,  "Thus,  all  at  once  distin- 
guished, the  Philadelphia  sage  became  the  object  of  uni- 
versal regard,  and  was  abundantly  loaded  with  academic 
honors." 

Later  on,  the  Universities  of  St.  Andrews,  London, 
and  Edinburgh  conferred  upon  him  the  degree  of  Doctor 
of  Laws.  Europe  vied  with  America  in  tributes  of 
honor  and  praise.  American  universities,  colleges,  State 
legislatures  and  literary  societies  showered  their  highest 
honors  upon  his  head. 

Although  he  was  in  no  sense  an  office-seeker,  but  a 
true  statesman  and  patriot,  he  was  called  to  fill  the  fol- 
lowing important  offices,  in  addition  to  those  already 
named :  A  legislator  of  Pennsylvania  for  twenty  years ; 
colonel  of  militia,  which  he  organized ;  chairman  of  com- 
mittee of  public  safety  in  time  of  war ;  agent  of  Penn- 
sylvania, Massachusetts,  New  Jersey,  and  Georgia  to 
the  King  of  England  ;  Minister  to  the  Court  of  England 
in  1764 ;  one  of  the  authors  of  the  Continental  Congress, 
and  a  member  of  it ;  Minister  Plenipotentiary  to  France 
in  1776 ;  author  of  first  treaty  for  America  in  1778 ; 
one  of  five  to  draft  the  Declaration  of  Independence; 


354  TURNING  POINTS. 

one  of  the  framers  of  the  Constitution  of  the  United 
States. 

The  leaders  in  governmental  affairs  in  the  mother 
country  meant  to  hold  the  colonies  in  subjection.  For 
this  reason  it  was  necessary  for  them  to  be  represented 
in  England  by  their  strongest  statesman,  and  Franklin 
was  the  one  on  whom  they  depended.  His  first  diplo- 
matic career  in  England  extended  from  1751  to  1762. 
Remaining  at  home  over  a  year,  he  was  appointed  "  Min- 
ister to  England,"  and  was  continued  ten  years  in  this 
office,  a  long,  stormy  period  of  political  troubles,  culmi- 
nating in  the  Declaration  of  Independence  and  the 
American  Revolution. 

The  scenes  of  the  Revolution  followed.  Through  the 
agency  of  Franklin,  as  Minister  Plenipotentiary  to 
France,  that  government  formed  an  alliance  with  the 
colonies,  and  the  eight  years'  Avar  was  waged  to  the  sur- 
render of  Cornwallis  at  Yorktown;  and  freedom  was 
achieved. 

Franklin  was  in  France  in  1785,  and  a  nephew  wrote 
to  him  that  the  town  in  Massachusetts  bearing  his  name 
was  erecting  a  house  of  worship,  and  suggested  that  the 
gift  of  a  bell  would  be  very  acceptable  to  them.  Instead 
of  sending  a  bell,  he  forwarded  a  library  of  valuable 
books,  saying  in  his  letter,  "  SENSE  is  PKEFERABLE  TO 
SOUND."  Dr.  Nathaniel  Emmons  was  the  clergyman  of 
the  town ;  and  he  preached  a  sermon  in  commemoration 
of  the  gift,  his  subject  being,  "  The  Dignity  of  Man  ;  A 
Discourse  Addressed  to  the  Congregation  in  Franklin 
upon  the  Occasion  of  their  Receiving  from  Doctor  Frank- 
lin the  Mark  of  his  Respect  in  a  rich  Donation  of  Books, 
Appropriated  to  the  Use  of  a  Parish  Library."  The  ser- 


BENJAMIN  FRANKLIN.  S55 

mon  was  printed  in  1787,  with  the  following  dedication : 
"To  His  Excellency  Benjamin  Franklin,  President  of 
the  State  of  Pennsylvania,  the  Ornament  of  Genius,  the 
Patron  of  Science,  and  the  Boast  of  Man,  this  Discourse 
is  inscribed,  with  the  Greatest  Deference,  Humility,  and 
Gratitude,  by  his  Obliged  and  Most  Humble  Servant, 
the  Author." 

A  remarkable  record  for  a  runaway  boy,  who  lived  to 
deplore  his  thoughtless  act,  in  which  a  grateful  posterity 
beholds  the  overruling  Providence  of  God. 

Franklin  died  on  the  17th  day  of  April,  1790.  For 
two  years  before  his  death  he  was  a  great  sufferer.  One 
day  a  groan  was  extorted  from  him  by  his  pain,  when 
he  said,  "  I  fear  that  I  do  not  bear  pain  as  I  ought.  It 
is  designed,  no  doubt,  to  wean  me  from  the  world,  in 
which  I  am  no  longer  competent  to  act  my  part."  To 
a  clerical  friend  who  witnessed  his  paroxysms  as  he  was 
about  to  retire,  Dr.  F.  said,  "Oh,  no,  do  not  go  away. 
These  pains  will  soon  be  over.  They  are  for  my  good ; 
and,  besides,  what  are  the  pains  of  a  moment  in  com- 
parison with  the  pleasures  of  eternity  ?  " 

In  a  codicil  to  his  will  was  this  bequest :  — 

"My  fine  crab-tree  walking-stick,  with  a  gold  head, 
curiously  wrought  in  the  form  of  a  cap  of  liberty,  I  give 
to  my  friend,  and  the  friend  of  mankind,  George  Wash- 
ington. If  it  were  a  sceptre  he  has  merited  it,  and 
would  become  it." 


556  TURNING  POINTS. 


XLIV. 

CHARLES  DICKENS. 

THE    CHOICE    THAT    MADE    HIM    A    GREAT    WRITER. 

THE  father  of  Charles  Dickens  was  in  the  English 
naval  service  in  the  War  of  1812,  the  year  in  which  the 
son  was  born.  At  the  close  of  the  war  he  was  pen- 
sioned by  the  government,  and  retired  to  private  life. 
He  was  a  man  of  talents  and  culture,  the  firm  friend 
of  education,  well  suited  to  serve  or  rule,  as  the  case 
might  be.  For  some  reason  he  removed  to  London, 
where,  after  a  little,  he  became  a  reporter  for  the  Chron- 
icle, his  work  being  to  report  the  debates  of  Parliament. 
He  continued  in  this  employment  six  or  eight  years. 

His  son  Charles  was  designated  for  the  legal  profes- 
sion. His  father  thought  he  possessed  marked  qualities 
for  the  bar,  and  his  education  was  conducted  with  that 
end  in  view.  Charles  was  not  consulted  about  it  at  all ; 
it  was  solely  the  father's  judgment  and  decision.  He 
was  a  good  scholar,  disposed  to  improve  his  opportuni- 
ties, and  in  no  sense  a  shirk.  These  qualities  rather 
confirmed  his'  father  in  his  decision  to  make  a  lawyer  of 
him.  As  Charles  studied  law  for  a  brief  period,  we 
infer  that  he  made  no  serious  objection  to  his  father's 
decree.  But.  subsequently,  he  resolutely  objected  to 
become  a  lawyer,  and  expressed  his  preference  for  some 


CHARLES  DICKENS.  357 

connection  with  the  press  —  reporter,  he  proposed.  Be- 
fore the  matter  was  settled,  he  undertook  the  mastery 
of  short-hand  writing,  that  he  might  more  easily  secure 
a  position  on  some  journal.  He  described  his  expe- 
rience in  learning  short-hand  in  the  following  amusing 
way  :  - 

"  I  bought  an  approved  scheme  of  the  noble  art  and 
mystery  of  stenography,  and  plunged  into  a  sea  of  per- 
plexity that  brought  me  in  a  few  weeks  to  the  confines 
of  distraction.  The  changes  that  were  run  upon  dots, 
which  in  one  position  meant  such  a  thing,  and  in  an- 
other position  something  else  entirely  different;  the 
wonderful  vagaries  that  were  played  by  circles ;  the  un- 
accountable consequences  that  resulted  from  marks  like 
flies'  legs ;  the  tremendous  effects  of  a  curve  in  the 
wrong  place  —  not  only  troubled  my  waking  hours,  but 
reappeared  before  me  in  my  sleep.  When  I  had  groped 
my  way  blindly  through  these  difficulties,  and  had  mas- 
tered the  alphabet,  which  was  an  Egyptian  temple  in 
itself,  there  then  appeared  a  procession  of  new  horrors, 
called  arbitrary  characters  —  the  most  despotic  charac- 
ters I  have  ever  known  —  who  insisted,  for  instance, 
that  a  thing  like  the  beginning  of  a  cobweb  meant  ex- 
pectation, that  a  pen-and-ink  sky-rocket  stood  for  disad- 
vantageous. When  I  had  fixed  these  wretches  in  my 
mind,  I  found  that  they  had  driven  everything  else  out 
of  it ;  then,  beginning  again,  I  forgot  them  ;  while  I  was 
picking  them  up  I  dropped  the  other  fragments  of  the 
system  —  in  short,  it  was  almost  heart-breaking." 

But  he  was  in  dead  earnest,  and  conquered.  He 
became  master  of  short-hand,  and  also  succeeded  in  over- 
coming his  father's  objections.  In  the  circumstances,  it 


358  TURNING  POINTS. 

was  not  strange  that  Mr.  Dickens  should  much  prefer  his 
son  should  be  an  honored  lawyer  than  a  common  news- 
paper man.  At  that  time  journalism  was  not  so  much 
respected  as  it  is  to-day ;  and  Mr.  Dickens  did  not  stop 
to  think  that  it  might  become  the  stepping-stone  to 
something  higher  and  grander.  But  he  yielded  to  his 
son's  importunity,  and  allowed  him  to  follow  his  bent. 
Charles  was  happy,  and  lost  no  time  in  securing  a  posi- 
tion. He  found  one  on  The  True  Sun,  but,  soon  after, 
exchanged  it  for  a  better  one  on  the  Morning  Chronicle. 
He  succeeded  from  the  start,  and  very  soon  he  began  to 
write  articles  for  the  journal ;  original  sketches  that  ap- 
peared in  the  evening  edition  under  the  caption  "  Sketches 
by  Boz."  They  Avere  written  in  somewhat  the  style  of 
his  later  productions,  and  challenged  the  attention  of  the 
public  at  once.  Their  humor,  strength,  raciness,  and  rol- 
licking spirit  differed  from  newspaper  articles  of  that 
day,  and  his  characters  belonged  to  common  life.  The 
people  read  them  with  avidity,  and  called  for  more. 
They  increased  the  circulation  of  the  paper  largely,  and 
a  publishing  house  sought  the  young  author  to  enlist 
him  in  a  class  of  work  which  they  had  on  the  docket. 
Out  of  this  arrangement  grew  his  famous  "Pickwick 
Papers." 

The  foregoing  facts  prove  beyond  question  that  the 
son  was  wiser  than  his  father.  He  felt  the  throbbings 
of  a  new  and  nobler  life  within,  which  was  revealed  to 
the  father  as  above.  Doubtless  there  was  mutual  satis- 
faction when  it  was  made  so  plain  that  the  son's  choice 
of  an  occupation  was  the  turning-point  of  his  great  ca- 
reer. He  found  his  place,  and  tilled  it  marvellously 
well. 


CHARLES  DICKENS.  359 

The  "  Pickwick  Papers  "  were  an  exposure  of  the  abuses 
and  wrongs  of  the  Fleet  Prison,  and  they  created  a  de- 
cided sensation.  Everybody  wanted  to  read  them,  not 
only  at  home,  but  abroad  as  well.  "  Nicholas  Nickleby  " 
followed,  adding  to  the  reputation  of  the  author,  and  con- 
firming the  opinion  that  Charles  Dickens  made  no  mis- 
take when  he  decided  for  the  press  instead  of  the  law. 
This  work  assailed  the  Yorkshire  schools  without  mercy, 
and  they  richly  deserved  it ;  for  here  children  suffered 
abuse  and  cruelty,  sometimes  dying  under  the  harsh  treat- 
ment. They  were  schools  only  in  name.  Dickens's  ex- 
posure brought  about  a  reformation  in  them. 

The  Sent  ley  Miscellany  was  started,  and  Dickens  be- 
came its  editor.  Immediately  it  grew  to  success  by  an 
unprecedented  circulation.  "  Oliver  Twist  "  was  pub- 
lished in  it  as  a  serial,  claimed  by  many  to  be  his  best 
production.  Household  Words  was  a  journal  that  he 
established,  a  number  of  writers  akin  to  himself  being 
connected  with  it.  Master  Humphrey's  Clock  he  started 
as  a  magazine  for  short  stories,  essays,  and  other  arti- 
cles. In  this  appeared  "  Old  Curiosity  Shop."  "  Bar- 
naby  Rudge  "  was  next  in  order  —  a  work  of  great  power 
and  purpose. 

Here  Dickens  paused  to  visit  America.  He  was  re- 
ceived in  this  country  with  the  highest  honors.  His 
literary  works  had  created  great  interest  here,  and  Ameri- 
cans were  glad  to  welcome  the  famous  author.  He  was 
greeted  everywhere  with  unbounded  hospitality.  On 
returning  to  England  he  wrote  his  "  Notes "  on  this 
country,  in  which  severe  criticisms  caused  many  an 
American  to  grow  red  in  the  face.  Then  appeared  his 
novel,  "  Martin  Chuzzlewit,"  another  bit  of  his  experi- 


360  TURNING  POINTS. 

once  while  sojcmrning  in  this  country  —  a  just  exposure 
of  the  land-swindles  that  prevailed  at  the  time.  Possess- 
ing a  remarkable  insight  into  human  nature,  and  great 
facility  in  expressing  his  thoughts,  his  method  of  expos- 
ing absurd  customs  and  habits,  and  fastening  public  at- 
tention upon  evils  that  should  be  uprooted,  both  charmed 
and  instructed. 

It  is  needless  to  enumerate  the  great  number  of  Dick- 
en  s's  publications,  for  they  are  known  throughout  the 
civilized  world.  "  Dombey  and  Son,"  "  David  Copper- 
field,"  «  Bleak  House,"  "  Little  Don-it,"  "  Hard  Times," 
"  Child's  History  of  England,"  «  Christmas  Books,"  and 
many  others  are  found  in  many  languages  and  many 
lands,  a  monument  that  perpetuates  the  recollection  of 
his  great  genius.  As  a  lawyer  he  might  have  adorned 
his  limited  sphere  of  action,  though  such  a  result  was 
somewhat  doubtful ;  but,  as  an  author,  his  circle  of  in- 
fluence extended  around  the  world. 

Dickens  was  an  example  of  industry  to  the  young 
men  of  all  lands.  From  the  time  he  began  to  serve  as  a 
reporter  to  The  True  'Sun  to  the  day  of  his  death,  he 
was  a  tremendous  toiler.  He  loved  literary  work  for 
its  own  sake.  He  disclaimed  the  usual  credit,  that  he 
was  a  genius,  and  declared  that  he  won  his  position  as 
an  author  by  hard  work ;  and,  further  still,  he  main- 
tained that  all  successful  careers  were  achieved  in  the 
same  way.  He  said  before  a  large  assembly  in  London, 
"  I  have  tried  with  all  my  heart  to  do  well,  and  whatever 
I  have  devoted  myself  to,  I  have  devoted  myself  to  com- 
pletely, that  in  great  aims  and  small  I  have  always 
been  thoroughly  in  earnest.  I  have  never  believed  it 
possible  that  natural  or  improved  ability  can  claim  im- 


CHARLES  DICKENS.  361 

munity  from  the  companionship  of  the  steady,  plain, 
hard-working  qualities,  and  hope  to  gain  its  end.  There 
is  no  such  thing  as  such  fulfilment  on  this  earth." 

On  this  point,  after  Dickens's  death,  Sir  Arthur  Helps 
said  of  him :  "  He  was  one  of  the  most  precise  and  accu- 
rate men  in  the  world ;  and  he  grudged  no  labor  in  his 
work.  Those  who  have  seen  his  manuscript  well  recol- 
lect what  elaborate  notes  and  comments  and  plans  (some 
adopted,  many  rejected)  went  to  form  the  basis  of  his 
works.  To  see  those  manuscripts  would  cure  anybody 
of  the  idle  and  presumptions  notion  that  men  of  genius 
require  no  forethought  or  preparation  for  their  greatest 
efforts,  biit  that  these  are  dashed  off  by  the  aid  of  a 
mysterious  something  which  is  comprehended  in  the 
mysterious  word  (  genius.'  It  was  one  of  Mr.  Dickens's 
theories,  and  I  believe  a  true  one,  that  men  differ  in 
hardly  anything  so  much  as  in  their  power  of  atten- 
tion; and  he  certainly,  whatever  he  did,  attended  to  it 
with  all  his  might." 

Charles  Dickens  died  Feb.  7,  1870,  at  the  age  of  fifty- 
eight.  His  death  was  very  sudden  and  unexpected ;  for 
his  power  for  literary  work  did  not  seem  to  be  abated. 
But  apoplexy,  induced  by  overwork  no  doubt,  struck  him 
down  one  day,  when  he  appeared  to  be  in  his  usual 
health,  and  he  remained  unconscious  until  death  closed 
his  career.  He  was  buried  in  the  '-Poets'  Corner," 
Westminster  Abbey ;  and  his  funeral  was  attended  by 
the  great  men  of  state,  science,  and  authorship.  The 
sermon  was  preached  by  Dr.  Stanley,  Dean  of  Westmin- 
ster, from  which  we  make  an  extract,  as  appropriate 
close  of  this  sketch.  In  it  is  a  paragraph  from  the  last 
"  Will  and  Testament "  of  Dickens,  showing  the  religious 


362  TURNING  POINTS. 

element  of  his  character,  with  which  the  general  public 
is  not  familiar.  We  quote  from  Dr.  Mackenzie's  "  Life 
of  Charles  Dickens :  "  — 

"Many,  many  are  the  feet  which  have  trodden,  and 
will  tread,  the  consecrated  ground  around  that  narrow 
grave ;  many,  many  are  the  hearts  which  both  in  the 
Old  and  in  the  New  World  are  drawn  towards  it,  as 
towards  the  resting-place  of  a  dear  personal  friend ; 
many  are  the  flowers  that  have  been  strewed,  many  the 
tears  shed,  by  the  grateful  affection  of  'the  poor  that 
cried,  and  the  fatherless,  and  those  that  had  none  to 
help  them.'  May  I  speak  to  these  a  few  sacred  words 
which  perhaps  will  come  with  a  new  meaning  and  a 
deeper,  force,  because  they  come  from  the  lips  of  a  lost 
friend,  because  they  are  the  most  solemn  utterance  of 
lips  now  forever  closed  in  the  grave.  They  are  ex- 
tracted from  the  will  of  Charles  Dickens,  dated  '  May 
12,  1869, '  and  they  will  be  heard  by  most  here  for  the 
first  time.  After  the  emphatic  injunctions  respecting 
'the  inexpensive,  unostentatious,  and  strictly  private 
manner'  of  the  funeral,  which  were  carried  out  to  the 
very  letter,  he  thus  continues,  '  I  direct  that  my  name  be 
inscribed  in  plain  English  letters  on  my  tomb.  ...  I 
conjure  my  friends  on  no  account  to  make  me  the  sub- 
ject of  any  monument,  memorial,  or  testimonial  what- 
ever. I  rest  my  claims  to  .the  remembrance  of  my 
country  upon  my  published-  Avorks,  and  to  the  remem- 
brance of  my  friends  upon  their  experience  of  me  in 
addition  thereto.  I  commit  my  soul  to  the  mercy  of 
God,  through  our  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ;  and 
I  exhort  my  dear  children  humbly  to  try  to  guide  them- 
selves by  the  teaching  of  the  New  Testament  in  its 


CHARLES  DICKENS.  363 

broad  spirit,  and  to  put  no  faith  in  any  man's  narrow 
construction  of  its  letter  here  or  there.' 

"  In  that  simple  but  sufficient  faith  he  lived  and  died ; 
in  that  faith  he  bids  you  live  and  die.  If  any  of  you 
have  learned  from  his  works  the  value,  the  eternal  value, 
of  generosity,  purity,  kindness,  unselfishness,  and  have 
learned  to  show  these  in  your  own  hearts  and  lives,  these 
are  the  best  monuments,  memorials,  and  testimonials  of 
the  friend  whom  you  loved,  and  who  loved,  with  a  rare 
and  touching  love,  his  friends,  his  country,  and  his  fel- 
low-men—  monuments  which  he  would  not  refuse,  and 
which  the  humblest,  the  poorest,  the  youngest,  have  it 
in  their  power  to  raise  to  his  memory." 


364  TURNING  POINTS. 


XLV. 
HARRIET  HOSMER. 

THE    CLAY-PIT    THAT    PREPARED    THE    WAY    FOR    THE 
SCULPTOR. 

DR.  HOSMER  was  a  practising  physician  in  Water- 
town,  Mass.  His  wife  was  a  delicate  woman,  having 
inherited  consumption  from  a  feeble  ancestry,  and  she 
died  soon  after  the  birth  of  her  second  child  ;  and  the 
child  died  of  the  same  disease  also.  Satisfied  that 
the  surviving  child,  Harriet,  born  Oct.  9,  1830,  would  go 
in  the  same  way  unless  saved  by  the  closest  watch  and 
care,  Dr.  Hosrner  resolved  to  make  a  "  tomboy  "  of  her 
for  several  years.  He  reasoned  on  this  wise :  "  The 
physical  nature  must  be  developed  and  established  in 
soundness  during  the  first  few  years  of  life,  or  never. 
The  mental  faculties  can  be  developed  and  trained  later 
on;  and  with  a  sound  body,  a  sound,  strong  mind  is 
sure." 

There  is  no  question  but  that  his  philosophy  was  cor- 
rect, as  the  sequel  proved.  It  was  scriptural,  too,  al- 
though neighbors  very  generally  criticised  his  "applied 
Christianity." 

"  I  should  rather  have  a  girl  of  mine  feeble  than  to 
make  such  a  '  tomboy  '  of  her,"  said  one.  "  She  will  be 
a  ruined  child,,"  remarked  another.  "  Too  masculine  and 


HARRIET  HOSMER.  365 

rough  even  for  a  boy  ! "  exclaimed  a  third.  And  so  on, 
criticisms  were  bandied  about ;  but  the  good  doctor  paid 
no  attention  to  them. .  There  was  philosophy  in  his 
view  of  the  matter ;  but  neither  reason  nor  philosophy 
in  the  criticisms.  He  meant  to  save  his  child  from  an 
early  grave  if  he  could,  in  spite  of  critics  and  perilous 
customs. 

The  following  methods  were  what  challenged  criti- 
cism. Harriet  was  allowed  to  play  ball  and  other 
games  with  boys  when  she  was  nothing  but  a  toddler. 
Instead  of  a  doll,  a  pet  dog  was  her  companion,  with 
which  she  romped  in  the.  yard  and  on  the  street.  She 
dug  in  the  dirt,  carried  on  a  bakery  for  mud  pies  and 
cakes,  and  ran  an  express-Avagon  from  the  woodpile  to 
the  shed.  She  climbed  trees,  too,  earlier  than  any  boy 
in  the  neighborhood,  and  would  climb  higher  in  less 
time.  She  scoured  the  fields  with  her  father,  also,  and 
collected  flowers,  curious  stones,  toads,  beetles,  bats, 
birds,  and  snakes.  Some  of  these  were  preserved  in 
bottles,  others  stuffed  and  mounted,  and  all  placed  in 
her  room,  with  suitable  inscriptions,  so  that  she  under- 
stood their  characteristics,  and  became  deeply  interested 
in  them  as  creatures  of  God. 

As  soon  as  she  was  old  enough  she  was  provided  with 
a  boat  on  Charles  River,  that  flowed  near  by ;  and  it 
was  much  earlier  than  most  parents  would  risk  a  child 
in  a  boat.  She  could  row  to  her  heart's  content  on  the 
river,  alone  or  in  company,  and  rapidly  acquired  the 
reputation  of  being  an  expert  rower.  Her  father  built 
a  Venetian  gondola  for  her,  beautifully  finished  and  fur- 
nished —  a  piece  of  folly  that  neighbors  thought  would 
soon  spoil  her  for  this  world  and  the  next.  Even  a  gun 


366  TURNING  POINTS. 

was  purchased  for  her,  and  she  was  taught  to  fire  at  a 
mark.  She  delighted  in  this  "  unladylike  "  amusement, 
and  therefore  engaged  in  it  often,  to  the  amazement  of 
observers.  She  became  a  better  marksman  than  any  boy 
in  the  town,  and  was  not  at  all  ashamed  of  her  profi- 
ciency in  this  art.  Some  people  were  ashamed  of  her ; 
but  it  was  all  the  same  to  her  whether  they  were  or 
not  —  a  strong  girl  was  being  made  out  of  a  weak  one. 
At  twelve  years  of  age  she  could  walk  any  distance  with- 
out being  fatigued. 

Near  her  father's  house  was  a  clay-pit  that  she  con- 
verted into  a  sculptor's  studio,  and  there  moulded  dogs, 
horses,  cats,  birds,  and  the  human  form  divine.  Some 
persons  discovered  nothing  but  the  freaks  of  a  wild,  un- 
disciplined nature  in  all  this;  but  her  father  beheld 
talent  and  genius  in  such  things. 

Harriet  was  a  great  reader  as  well  as  a  sporting-girl. 
Her  father  encouraged  her  reading  propensity  under 
limitations;  and  every  day  she  added  to  her  stock  of 
information.  Her  father  could  see  what  no  other  ob- 
server could,  and  was  satisfied  with  his  method  of  dis- 
cipline. She  continued  to  play  and  romp  and  read, 
sporting  like  a  boy  and  reading  like  a  girl,  until  the 
time  arrived  to  send  her  away  to  school.  Now  she 
excelled  all  girls  of  her  age  in  physical  agility  and 
strength.  She  had  a  sound  body  for  a  sound  mind  to 
dwell  in.  It  was  time  for  her  mental  culture  to  begin 
in  earnest. 

She  was  placed  in  a  school  under  the  management  of 
a  brother-in-law  of  Nathaniel  Hawthorne.  Being  un- 
used to  bit  and  bridle,  it  was  difficult  for  her  to  come 
under  the  rules  of  the  school  without  chafing.  The 


HAERIET  HOSMEE.  367 

principal  never  had  a  pupil  who  was  reared  in  the  way 
Harriet  Hosmer  was,  and  he  scarcely  knew  how  to  man- 
age her.  In  fact,  he  did  not  know  how  to  control  her, 
and  there  was  trouble.  Her  human  nature  was  not  un- 
derstood, and  it  asserted  itself  against  such  ignorance. 
Discouraged  and  out  of  patience,  the  principal  wrote  to 
her  father,  "  I  can  do  nothing  with  her." 

Dr.  Hosmer  removed  his  daughter  to  the  school  of 
Mrs.  Sedgwick  in  Lenox,  Mass.  Mrs.  Sedgwick  was 
told  plainly  all  about  the  girl,  and  she  replied  with  a 
smile,  "  I  have  a  reputation  for  training  wild  colts,  arid 
I  will  try  this  one."  Her  training  proved  remarkably 
successful.  Harriet  soon  learned  to  love  and  trust  her. 
Mutual  confidence  grew  up  between  them ;  and  the  girl 
showed  daily  that  her  natural  abilities  were  of  high 
order.  Mrs.  Sedgwick  wrote  of  her,  "  She  was  the  most 
difficult  pupil  to  manage  I  ever  had  ;  but  I  think  I  never 
had  one  in  whom  I  took  so  deep  an  interest,  and  whom 
I  learned  to  love  so  well." 

She  remained  three  years  in  Mrs.  Sedgwick's  school, 
all  the  while  observing  her  father's  instructions  about 
exercise  in  the  open  air,  —  walking,  running,  boating, 
riding,  and  playing  games.  At  the  end  of  three  years 
she  returned  to  Watertown,  and  began  to  take  private 
lessons  in  drawing  and  anatomical  studies  in  Boston, 
often  walking  to  the  city  and  back,  a  distance  of  four- 
teen miles. 

It  was  at  this  time  that  she  reached  the  turning- 
point.  She  had  scarcely  asked  hitherto,  What  shall 
be  my  life-work  ?  Her  father  was  rich,  and  there  was 
really  no  reason  for  her  raising  this  question.  But  both 
she  and  her  father  .believed  in  some -chosen  pursuit,  no 


368  TURNING   POINTS. 

matter  how  much  wealth  there  might  be  in  the  family. 
So  this  matter  was  discussed.  Dr.  Hosmer  remembered 
the  clay-pit,  where  she  practised  modelling  in  her  own 
original  way,  and  the  evidence  he  discovered  then  of  her 
talents  in  the  line  of  sculpture.  Nor  did  Harriet  forget 
that  lovely  experience  of  her  girlhood ;  and  she  had 
never  seen  the  time  since  those  play-days  when  her  taste 
did  not  guide  her  in  that  direction.  The  clay-pit  reve- 
lation proved  the  key  to  the  situation  now.  It  was  set- 
tled that  she  should  take  lessons  in  modelling  in  Boston, 
carrying  along  with  it  a  thorough  course  of  study  in 
anatomy,  knowledge  indispensable  to  a  sculptor. 

She  applied  to  the  Boston  Medical  School  for  admis- 
sion, but  was  refused  on  account  of  her  sex.  Then  she 
went  to  a  medical  college  in  St.  Louis,  where  she  dis- 
tinguished herself  for  application,  research,  and  advance- 
ment. Her  instructors  spoke  in  the  highest  terms  of 
her  intellectual  powers  and  moral  character.  On  her 
return  to  Watertown,  her  father  fitted  up  a  studio  for 
her  in  his  own  house ;  and  there  she  commenced  a  work 
that  has  made  her  name  immortal. 

One  incident  should  be  recorded  here,  as  showing  that 
there  was  a  merry  side  to  Miss  Hosmer 's  life.  After 
her  return  from  Lenox,  she  had  some  ailment,  for  which 
her  father  requested  a  noted  Boston  physician  to  treat 
her.  The  physician  came  at  irregular  times,  thus  inter- 
fering with  her  systematic  way  of  boating,  riding,  and 
other  exercise ;  and  she  complained.  "  I  will  be  here 
to-morrow"  (naming  the  hour)  "if  I  am  alive,"  said  the 
doctor. 

"  And  if  you  are  not  here  I  am  to  conclude  that  you 
are  dead,"'  Miss  Hosmer  replied.  The  doctor  assented, 
laughing. 


HARRIET   HOSMER.  369 

The  doctor  failed  to  be  there  at  the  time ;  and  she  took 
her  father's  horse,  drove  into  Boston,  and  reported  to 
several  newspaper  offices  that  Dr.  —  —was  dead.  Judge 
of  the  surprise  of  the  great  physician  to  read  about  his 
own  death  in  the  next  issue  of  the  papers. 

Her  first  work  of  art  was  "  Canova's  Napoleon," 
carved  in  marble  for  her  father.  This  was  followed  by 
a  bust  of  "  Hesper,"  which  Lydia  Maria  Child  described 
as  so  tine  "that  it  seems  like  a  thing  that  breathes," 
adding,  "  She  did  every  stroke  of  the  work  with  her  own 
small  hands.  .  .  .  Slight  girl  as  she  was,  she  wielded 
for  eight  or  ten  hours  a  day  a  leaden  mallet  weighing 
four  pounds  and  a  half.  Had  it  not  been  for  the 
strength  and  flexibility  of  muscle  acquired  by  rowing 
and  other  athletic  exercises,  such  arduous  labor  would 
have  been  impossible."  Now  the  wisdom  of  her  father's 
discipline  was  beginning  to  show  in  her  chosen  pursuit. 

In  1852,  at  the  age  of  twenty-two,  she  accompanied 
her  father  to  Rome,  arriving  there  November  12.  Her 
strong  desire  was  to  become  a  pupil  of  John  Gibson; 
but  he  said,  "  Young  women  become  discouraged  easily  ; 
I  must  decline  to  receive  her."  Friends  showed  him 
the  photograph  of  her  "  Hesper  ; "  and,  after  studying  it, 
he  said,  "  Send  the  young  lady  to  me,  and  whatever  I 
know,  and  can  teach  her,  she  shall  learn."  Miss  Hosmer 
was  overjoyed,  and  wrote  to  a  friend,  "  The  dearest  wish 
of  my  heart  is  gratified  in  that  I  am  acknowledged  by 
Gibson  as  a  pupil.  He  has  been  resident  in  Rome 
thirty-four  years,  and  leads  the  van.  I  am  greatly  in 
luck.  He  has  just  finished  the  model  of  the  statue  of 
the  queen ;  and,  as  his  room  is  vacant,  he  permits  me  to 
use  it,  and  I  am  now  in  his  own  studio.  I  have  also  a 


870  TURNING   POINTS. 

little  room  for  work  which  was  formerly  occupied  by 
Canova ;  and  perhaps  inspiration  may  be  drawn  from  the 
walls." 

Under  Gibson  she  copied  the  "  Venus  de  Milo  "  first. 
Just  as  she  completed  the  work,  it  fell  and  broke  in 
pieces.  Most  girls  would  have  cried ;  but  she  neither 
cried  nor  complained,  but  went  to  work  and  reproduced 
it.  Mr.  Gibson  regarded  this  spirit  as  the  harbinger  of 
great  success.  Then  she  produced  "  Cupid,"  which  was 
followed  by  her  first  original  work,  "  Daphne  ;  "  "  Me- 
dusa," "  G5none,  the  nymph  of  Mount  Ida,"  "  Beatrice 
Cenci,"  a  girl  "  lying  asleep  before  her  execution,  after 
the  terrible  torture,"  followed,  winning  wide  reputation 
for  her.  "  I  can  teach  her  nothing,"  said  Gibson. 

After  an  absence  of  five  years  she  returned  to  Amer- 
ica in  1857,  to  spend  several  months  at  home.  On  going 
back  to  Rome,  she  produced  "  Zenobia,"  Queen  of  Pal- 
myra, of  which  Whittier  said,  "  It  very  fully  expresses 
my  conception  of  what  historical  sculpture  should  be. 
It  tells  its  whole  proud,  melancholy  story.  In  looking 
at  it,  I  felt  that  the  artist  had  been  as  truly  serving 
her  country  while  working  out  her  magnificent  design 
abroad,  as  our  soldiers  in  the  field,  and  our  public  offi- 
cers in  their  departments."  This  piece  of  sculpture 
won  for  her  wider  reputation  than  ever,  proving  her 
determination,  when  she  said,  a  few  years  before,  "I 
will  not  be  an  amateur ;  I  will  work  as  if  I  had  to  earn 
my  daily' bread."  Some  of  the  London  newspapers  said 
that  Gibson  himself  wrought  it.  Miss  Hosmer  soon 
satisfied  them  on  this  point  by  bringing  a  suit  for  libel 
against  them. 

Of  her  many  other  productions  we  will  not  speak,  ex- 


HARRIET  HOSMER.  371 

cept  to  add  opinions  of  her  "  Sleeping  Faun,"  that  was 
put  on  exhibition  at  the  Dublin  Exhibition  in  18G5. 
The  London  Times  said,  "  In  the  groups  of  statues  are 
many  works  of  exquisite  beauty ;  but  there  is  one  which 
at  once  arrests  attention  and  extorts  admiration.  It  is 
a  curious  fact  that  amid  all  the  statues  in  this  court, 
contributed  by  the  natives  of  lands  in  which  the  fine  arts 
were  naturally  thousands  of  years  ago,  one  of  the  finest 
should  be  the  production  of  an  American  artist."  The 
London  Art  Journal  said,  "  The  works  of  Miss  Hosmer, 
Hiram  Powers,  and  others  we  might  name,  have  placed 
America  on  a  level  with  the  best  modern  sculptors  of 
Europe." 

Miss  Hosmer's  works  have  brought  her  wealth.  Her 
father  lost  his  property  before  she  closed  her  studies 
with  John  Gibson ;  but  she  was  able  to  contribute  to 
his  support,  so  that  he  lacked  for  nothing  the  remainder 
of  his  life.  He  never  regretted  the  method  of  training 
his  daughter,  and  saw,  before  he  died,  that  it  gave  the 
best  female  sculptor  to  the  world.  She  never  called  in 
question  the  wisdom  of  her  father,  since  it  proved  that 
a  woman  in  art  can  dispute  its  laurels  with  a  man. 


372  TURNING  POINTS. 


XL  VI. 

JOHN  KITTO. 

THE    MISFORTUNE    THAT    CHAXGED    THE    PAUPER    TO 
BIBLICAL    SCHOLAR. 

THE  father  of  John  Kitto  was  one  of  the  poorest  men 
in  old  Plymouth,  England ;  and,  worse  than  all,  he  Avas 
intemperate.  He  was  a  mason  by  trade,  and  labored 
well  except  when  he  was  incapacitated  by  drink.  He 
was  a  good  workman  too;  and  his  work  was  first-class, 
except  when  liquor  fuddled  his  brain.  As  usual,  when 
strong  drink  was  in,  wit  was  out.  Sometimes  he  would 
have  a  job  several  miles  away,  and  would  be  absent  all 
the  week,  returning  on  Saturday  night.  Often,  however, 
his  return  home  was  hindered  by  a  beer-shop,  one  or 
more  of  them,  into  which  once  introduced,  he  would  not 
leave  until  his  last  cent  was  squandered.  For  this  rea- 
son he  would  not  put  in  an  appearance  at  home  until 
Sunday  morning ;  and  then  he  would  be  penniless,  shift- 
less, and  heartless.  His  family  had  a  wretched  time, 
of  course ;  bread  and  clothes  were  poor  and  scarce,  and 
hope  and  happiness  found  no  resting-place  there. 

Into  such  a  home  John  Kitto  was  born,  Dec.  4,  1804. 
His  mother  was  a  tender,  loving,  noble  woman,  and  did 
the  best  that  she  could  for  him.  In  his  babyhood  she 
discovered  that  he  was  a  child  of  unusual  parts,  and  she 


JOHN  KITTO.  373 

loved  and  watched  him  with  singular  devotion,  and 
found  in  this  a  kind  of  solace  for  her  woes. 

John  showed  his  love  of  books  very  early.  He  could 
read  quite  well  at  four  years  of  age.  He  was  affection- 
ate, and  obedient  also,  never  so  happy  as  when  he  could 
help  and  please  his  mother.  He  realized,  too,  that  his 
home  was  a  poor  one  because  his  father  was  not  what 
he  ought  to  be.  About  this  time  poverty  was  so  heavy 
a  burden  to  the  mother,  that  relief  must  come  from  some 
quarter.  So  it  was  arranged  for  Grandmother  Pickens 
to  take  John  home  with  her,  and  keep  him  until  a  better 
day  dawned  upon  the  Kitto  family.  Mrs.  Pickens  was 
pleased  with  the  arrangement,  for  John  was  her  pet. 
She  thought  he  was  a  wonderfully  bright  child ;  and  her 
opinion  of  him  was  correct.  John,  too,  was  gratified 
with  the  change;  for,  next  to  his  mother,  he  loved  his 
grandmother  best  of  all. 

It  was  fortunate  for  John  that  this  change  was  imper- 
ative. He  could  attend  school,  dwell  in  a  happy  home, 
he  fed  and  clothed  properly,  and  look  daily  upon  the 
better  side  of  life.  His  grandmother  could  devote  much 
time  to  him,  telling  him  stories,  reading  to  him,  walking 
with  him  in  the  fields  to  gather  flowers,  nuts,  and  curi- 
osities. John  enjoyed  these  things  so  much  that  he  cared 
little  to  join  boys  and  girls  in  their  amusements.  He 
preferred  the  society  of  his  grandmother,  and  she  pre- 
ferred his  ;  and  they  became  inseparable.  John  devel- 
oped rapidly  into  a  precocious,  talented  boy. 

Near  by  Mrs.  Pickens  dwelt  a  jolly  shoemaker,  who 
was  a  great  story-teller ;  and  he  thought  "  Johnny  "  was 
the  brightest  boy  of  his  age-  he  ever  knew.  John  de- 
lighted to  sit  in  the  cobbler's  shop  and  listen  to  his  won- 


374  TURNING  POINTS. 

derf  ul  stories  of  «  Blue  Beard,"  "  Jack  the  Giant  Killer/' 
'•'Cinderella,"  "  Beauty  and  the  Beast,"  and  others  sim- 
ilar in  character.  They  were  the  first  stories  of  a  mar- 
vellous character  to  which  the  boy  had  listened,  and  they 
filled  him  with  wonder.  At  the  same  time  the  shoe- 
maker told  him  that  these  stories  were  in  print,  and 
could  be  purchased  separately  at  Mrs.  Bamicle's  shop, 
at  the  head  of  Market  Street.  This  proved  to  be  impor- 
tant information  to  John ;  for  he  communicated  it  to 
his  grandmother,  who  advised  him  to  save  every  half- 
penny and  buy  the  stories.  In  eighteen  months  from 
that  time  he  possessed  all  of  them,  and  packed  them 
into  a  box  seven  inches  long,  four  wide,  and  three  deep. 
He  read  them  over  and  over ;  and  from  that  time  his 
love  of  reading  knew  no  bounds.  He  ransacked  his 
grandmother's  dwelling,  and  brought  to  light  a  copy  of 
"  Gulliver's  Travels  "  and  "  Pilgrim's  Progress,"  greater 
treasures  to  him,  in  the  circumstances,  than  all  he  owned 
before.  The  old  family  Bible  and  his  mother's  Prayer 
Book  he  had  known  before ;  but  new  interest  invested 
them  now,  especially  the  Bible,  which  was  illustrated 
with  pictures.  Pictorial  illustrations  also  adorned 
"  Gulliver's  Travels  "  and  "  Pilgrim's  Progress,"  awak- 
ening the  youngster's  artistic  propensity;  and  he  pro- 
ceeded to  color  them  with  his  grandmother's  indigo.  A 
neighbor,  who  became  interested  in  the  young  artist's 
work,  presented  him  with  a  box  of  water-colors,  which 
filled  his  young  life  with  joy.  Reading  and  painting 
now  occupied  his  time,  and  he  lost  what  little  interest 
he  ever  had  in  childish  plays. 

Neighbors  and  friends  interested  themselves  now  in 
the  gifted  boy,  and  books  of  various  kinds  were  loaned 


JOHN  KITTO.  375 

to  the  voracious  reader.  He  revelled  in  books ;  and  his 
mind  grew  with  his  knowledge,  increasing  his  grand- 
mother's admiration  for  the  boy. 

When  he  had  lived  six  years  with  Mrs.  Pickens,  her 
health  was  so  much  impaired  that  she  was  forced  to 
break  up  housekeeping,  and  live  with  her  daughter, 
John's  mother.  John  went  with  her,  of  course,  and 
thus  again  became  an  inmate  of  a  drunkard's  home. 
The  condition  of  the  family  had  not  improved  in  the 
least,  and  it  seemed  as  if  John  were  thrust  back  into 
poverty  and  woe  to  complete  his  ruin.  Near  by  was 
Sutton-Pool,  a  harbor,  or  basin,  into  which  trading  ves- 
sels discharged  their  cargoes.  At  low  water  it  was  con- 
verted into  a  mass  of  fetid  mire,  rendered  still  more 
disagreeable  by  being  the  receptacle  for  the  town  drain- 
age, in  which  poor  boys  and  girls  were  wont  to  wade, 
searching  for  bits  of  iron  or  rope,  and  such  other  things 
as  might  be  washed  or  thrown  therein.  Notwithstand- 
ing the  bad  odor  and  filth  of  the  place,  fifty  children 
were  sometimes  seen  at  once,  John  Kitto  among  them, 
wading  up  to  their  knees  in  the  mire,  well  satisfied  if 
they  obtained  a  penny's  worth  of  old  iron  in  a  day. 
Some  of  the  most  dexterous  boys  could  make  threepence 
in  a  day.  Still,  John  did  not  lose  his  love  of  reading. 
He  borrowed  books  wherever  he  could  find  them,  and 
embraced  every  opportunity  to  read  them,  even  appro- 
priating hours  intended  for  sleep  for  this  purpose  when«- 
ever  it  was  necessary. 

Look  at  this  bright  lad  now  with  his  surroundings  ! 
What  possible  chance  for  him  to  emerge  from  this  de- 
plorable condition  into  an  honorable  and  useful  life  ? 
He  seems  to  have  been  shut  up  to  want,  obscurity,  and 


876  TURNING  POINTS. 

probable  ruin.  A  more  unpropitious  start  in  life  never 
became  the  lot  of  girl  or  boy.  But  the  darkest  time 
is  just  before  day.  Misfortune  often  heralds  success. 
Many  of  the  best  things  are  born  out  of  tribulation. 
John  was  on  the  borderland  of  fortune,  and  he  did  not 
know  it.  Nor  did  any  of  his  friends  dream  of  the  expe- 
rience. The  change  came,  however ;  and  it  came  in  a 
terrible  calamity  that  appeared  to  finish  the  boy  at  the 
time.  What  hope  for  a  brighter  future  for  the  boy  any 
friend  may  have  secretly  cherished  was  crushed  by  the 
dire  misfortune.  It  came  on  this  wise. 

John  was  thirteen  years  old,  and  began  to  assist  his 
father  in  his  work.  He  could  carry  bricks  and  slates, 
and  perhaps  mortar,  for  his  father,  and  thereby  earn  a 
few  cents  in  a  day.  On  Feb.  13,  1817,  he  was  carrying 
slates  to  the  roof  of  a  house  in  Batter  Street,  where  his 
father  was  at  work.  About  four  o'clock  in  the  after- 
noon, as  he  was  stepping  from  the  ladder  to  the  roof,  he 
slipped,  and  fell  to  the  stone  pavement  below  —  a  dis- 
tance of  thirty-five  feet.  He  was  picked  up  for  dead. 
But,  strange  to  say,  not  a  bone  of  his  body  was  broken, 
though  he  was  as  unconscious  as  a  stone.  After  lying 
two  weeks  in  this  unconscious  condition,  he  opened  his 
eyes  one  day,  and  beheld  his  relatives  and  friends  bend- 
ing over  him  with  anxious  faces  and  tearful  eyes,  and 
he  scarcely  knew  what  it  meant.  He  did  not  remember 
his  fall,  nor  realize  the  physical  distress  through  which 
he  had  passed.  Nor  could  physician  or  parents  tell 
until  that  moment  whether  he  would  ever  show  life 
again.  They  discovered  that  his  injury  was  not  fatal, 
but  that  he  was  made  deaf  for  life.  On  the  whole,  it 
was  almost  a  miraculous  deliverance. 


JOHN  KITTO.  377 

What  next?  The  poorhouse.  Four  months  he  lan- 
guished upon  his  bed  before  he  was  able  to  go  upon  the 
street ;  and  they  were  four  months  of  extreme  want  to 
the  family.  Kind  neighbors  remembered  the  suffering 
boy,  so  that  his  painful  condition  was  somewhat  amelio- 
rated ;  but  his  restoration  was  to  greater  want ;  for  now 
he  could  not  assist  his  father,  nor  render  service  to  other 
parties  of  any  account.  The  only  alternative  was  the 
poorhouse ;  and  there  he  was  taken,  with  no  other  ex- 
pectation than  that  he  would  live  and  die  there.  Yet 
his  sad  experience  was  his  salvation.  His  misfortune 
became  his  roll  of  honor.  His  poorhouse  experience  in- 
troduced him  to  more  than  riches.  When  he  was  picked 
up  for  dead,  he  turned  into  the  way  of  life.  But  for 
slipping  off  the  roof,  he  might  have  shared  the  fate  of 
drunkards'  children  generally,  —  been  lost  to  learning, 
usefulness,  and  possibly  to  honor.  It  was  a  strange  and 
unknown  way  to  distinction  ;  but  John  Kitto  travelled 
it,  all  unconscious  to  himself,  until  the  bright  goal 
loomed  up  in  the  distance  to  his  astonished  vision. 
The  following  facts  prove  the  foregoing. 

In  the  poorhouse  John  learned  to  make  shoes.  At 
the  same  time  his  thirst  for  knowledge  was  so  great  that 
the  authorities  gratified  it  to  a  certain  extent.  He  was 
allowed  time  for  reading  and  study,  and  surprised  his 
benefactors  by  his  progress.  Knowledge  of  this  remark- 
able pauper  came  to  a  wealthy  gentleman  by  the  name 
of  Harvey,  and  he  sought  an  interview  with  the  boy. 
He  was  more  than  surprised  by  his  first  interview,  and 
he  repeated  it.  Again  and  again  he  visited  the  youth, 
questioned  him  over  and  over,  examined  him  in  his 
studies  and  acquisitions,  and  finally  concluded  that  such 


378  TURNING  POINTS. 

a  prodigy  should  enjoy  the  best  opportunity  for  an  edu- 
cation possible.  Several  of  his  essays  had  been  printed 
in  the  Plymouth  Weekly  Journal ;  and  they  awakened 
great  interest  in  the  pauper-author.  Mr.  Harvey  found 
no  difficulty  in  arranging  for  his  removal  from  the  work- 
house, and  instalment  where  he  could  be  instructed  and 
have  access  to  the  public  library.  For  this  change  John 
was  extremely  grateful ;  and  he  wrote  to  Mr.  Harvey  as 
follows :  — 

"  True  gratitude  is  very  seldom  eloquent,  and  never 
suffers  itself  to  evaporate  in  words.  If,  therefore,  I 
fail  in  expressing  my  sense  of  the  favors  I  have  received 
from  you  and  the  other  gentlemen,  it  does  not  imply 
that  I  do  not,  as,  believe  me,  sir,  I  do,  feel  grateful,  with 
a  gratitude  which  words  are  too  poor  to  express,  and 
which  shall  be  displayed,  not  merely  by  letters  formed 
by  a  quill,  or  by  verbal  eloquence,  but  by  an  earnest 
endeavor  to  profit  by  the  means  which  you  have  placed 
within  my  reach  of  improving  my  moral  and  intellectual 
powers,  of  maturing  my  judgment,  and  of  acquiring 
information." 

John  fully  redeemed  the  pledge  made  in  his  letter  to 
Mr.  Harvey,  and  no  one  lived  to  regret  the  help  ten- 
dered to  the  workhouse  prodigy.  His  friends  concluded 
that  some  definite  business  should  be  learned  by  him, 
and  decided  that  he  should  become  a  dentist.  But  an- 
other and  better  door  of  usefulness  opened  before  he 
became  master  of  dentistry,  and  he  gladly  entered.  It 
was  to  become  a  missionary,  preparation  for  which  he 
began  immediately,  with  even  more  enthusiasm  than  he 
had  taken  up  any  previous  work.  In  due  time  he  be- 
came a  self-sacrificing,  successful  missionary  in  Malta, 


JOHN   KITTO.  379 

and  later,  in  Bagdad.  He  was  thoroughly  interested  in 
the  work ;  and  the  Bible,  in  connection  with  it,  unfolded 
a  grander  and  more  wonderful  revelation  to  him.  He 
labored  six  years  as  a  missionary  ;  and  then,  believing 
that  he  could  accomplish  more  good  for  the  world  by  his 
pen,  he  returned  to  his  native  land.  His  future  success 
as  a  biblical  scholar  and  author  is  ample  proof  that  the 
Lord  directed  his  steps. 

Three  months  after  his  return  he  was  united  in  mar- 
riage to  an  accomplished  lady,  who  was  of  great  assis- 
tance to  him  in  his  literary  work.  He  prepared  "  Uncle 
Oliver's  Travels  in  Persia,"  in  two  volumes,  in  which 
the  manners,  customs,  and  habits  of  the  people  were 
described  —  a  book  for  the  young.  "  The  Pictorial 
Bible"  followed,  and  "Pictorial  History  of  Palestine 
and  the  Holy  Land."  "  Cyclopaedia  of  Biblical  Litera- 
ture," in  two  large  volumes,  came  next.  In  1845  he  is- 
sued a  work  in  two  volumes,  called  "  The  Lost  Senses," 
in  which  were  shown,  as  nowhere  else,  the  trials  and 
achievements  of  the  deaf,  dumb,  and  blind.  "  The 
Christian  Traveller,"  " Thoughts  Among  Flowers,"  "Pic- 
torial Sunday  Book,"  "  History  of  Palestine,  from  the 
Patriarchal  Age  to  the  Present  Time,"  "  Gallery  of 
Scripture  Engravings,  with  Descriptions,  etc.,"  "  Ancient 
and  Modern  Jerusalem,"  and  "  The  Tabernacle  and  Its 
Furniture,"  were  the  products  of  his  pen,  all  showing 
close  study,  thorough  investigation,  and  great  industry. 
From  1851  to  1853  he  prepared  "  The  Journal  of  Sacred 
Literature,"  in  two  series,  both  of  which  contained  eleven 
volumes.  About  the  same  time,  also,  three  other  vol- 
umes appeared  from  his  pen,  —  "  Scripture  Lands," 
"  Land  of  Promise,"  and  "  Sunday  Headings  for  Chris- 
tian Families." 


380  TURNING  POINTS. 

But  the  work  that  above  all  others  gave  him  world- 
wide fame  was  his  "  Daily  Bible  Illustrations,"  morning 
and  evening  series,  in  eight  large  volumes,  used  to-day 
throughout  Christendom.  Many  magazine  articles  and 
pamphlets  appeared  from  his  pen  also,  while  he  was 
turning  off  books  at  the  rate  of  several  in  a  year. 
Surely  the  deaf  workhouse  boy  more  than  fulfilled  the 
expectations  of  his  benefactors.  He  died  in  1854,  at 
fifty  years  of  age,  and,  although  poor  and  deaf,  accom- 
plished more  the  last  thirty  years  of  his  life  than  many 
great  men  of  the  past  did  in  sixty.  He  once  wrote,  "  I 
am  not  myself  a  believer  in  imf>ossib'dities  ;"  and  this 
fact  explains  his  success. 

Professor  Eadie  said  of  him,  "  What  he  did,  he  did 
with  his  might.  It  was  not  a  feat  and  done  with  it, 
but  patient  and  protracted  industry.  He  did  not  spring 
to  his  prey  like  the  lion,  but  he  performed  his  daily 
task  like  the  ox.  He  did  his  work  with  considerable 
ease,  but  he  was  always  at  his  work.  He  was  either 
fishing,  or  mending  his  nets ;  either  composing,  or  pre- 
paring for  composition.  From  his  earliest  days  he 
could  not  be  idle ;  his  repose  was  in  activity.  The 
swallow  feeds  and  rests  on  the  wing.  Though  under 
the  pressure  of  a  calamity  which  would  have  broken  the 
fortitude  of  many,  he  resolved,  not  so  much  to  be  famous, 
as  to  be  useful ;  and  though  many  providences  seemed 
conspiring  to  thwart  him,  he  boldly  acted  out  his  resolu- 
tion. He  often  felt  exhausted,  and  sometimes  dispir- 
ited, on  the  rugged  and  up-hill  path.  But,  though  faint, 
he  was  still  pursuing.  Every  time  he  fell,  he  rose  with 
renewed  vigor.  His  stout  heart  and  indomitable  perse- 
verance carried  him  through." 


THOMAS   CHALMERS.  381 


XLVII. 

THOMAS   CHALMERS. 

THE    SICKNESS    THAT    GAVE    TO    SCOTLAND    THE    GREAT 
PREACHER. 

THOMAS  CHALMERS  was  born  at  Anstruther,  Fife- 
shire,  Scotland,  March,  17,  1780,  the  sixth  of  fourteen 
children.  His  father  and  grandfather  were  merchants, 
enterprising  and  successful.  All  his  ancestors  were 
identified  with  the  Church,  and  rejigion  was  a  prominent 
feature  in  their  family  discipline.  The  Chalmerses  were 
thoroughly  instructed  in  the  essentials  of  a  Christian 
life  from  generation  to  generation. 

At  two  years  of  age  Thomas  was  placed  under  the 
care  of  a  nurse  who  treated  him  with  neglect  and  cruelty. 
Although  so  young,  he  realized  that  he  was  abused,  and 
remonstrated  against  it  as  resolutely  as  a  child  of  his 
tender  years  could.  At  the  end  of  a  year  he  was  taken 
away,  to  his  great  joy,  and  placed  in  a  school,  where  he 
was  not  favorably  situated.  The  principal  was  nearly 
blind,  though  he  could  see  enough  to  flog  his  pupils 
severely  for  very  small  offences.  The  school  was  not 
particularly  attractive  to  Thomas,  nor  was  he  disposed 
to  improve  what  opportunities  it  offered  as  best  he 
might.  He  was  a  wide-awake,  frolicsome  boy,  overflow- 
ing with  energy,  in  favor  of  a  good  time  generally,  with- 


382  TURNING  POINTS. 

out  an  appreciative  idea  of  intellectual  advantages.  He 
was  quick  to  learn,  sharp  to  observe  in  worldly  things, 
and  might  easily  have  led  his  school  in  all  branches  of 
knowledge.  But  his  ambition  did  not  lie  in  that  direc- 
tion. To  fail  in  the  class  was  to  be  consigned  to  the 
"  coal-hole ; "  and  Thomas  often  received  that  punish- 
ment. He  dreaded  it  less  than  he  did  to  get  a  good 
lesson. 

He  possessed  two  good  qualities,  however.  First,  he 
opposed  falsehood,  profanity,  and  vulgarity  among  the 
boys.  Second,  he  denounced  all  forms  of  quarrelling, 
and  interposed  to  stop  it,  even  if  he  had  to  whip  the 
parties  engaged.  He  was  far  more  successful  as  a  peace- 
maker than  he  was  as  student ;  and  so  far  his  influence 
in  the  school  was  good.  In  those  days,  and  in  that 
locality,  fighting  among  schoolmates  was  not  uncommon. 
Hence,  a  real  peacemaker  among  the  number  was  a  God- 
send. 

Thomas  could  repeat  many  passages  of  the  Bible  be- 
fore he  could  read,  and  he  could  read  very  well  at  four 
years  of  age.  He  read  "  Pilgrim's  Progress  "  when  five 
or  six  years  old,  and  was  fascinated  with  it.  He  went 
to  the  Anstruther  school  until  he  was  eleven  years  old, 
without  advancing  to  the  satisfaction  of  his  parents. 
For  this  reason  he  was  taken  out,  and  placed  in  the 
University  of  St.  Andrews,  where  he  paid  as  much  atten- 
tion to  football  the  first  year  as  some  students  do  in  the 
universities  of  to-day.  His  progress  was  not  satisfac- 
tory to  his  teachers  or  his  parents,  and  he  probably  re- 
ceived deserved  reproof  and  warning  for  his  conduct. 

For  the  next  year,  1792,  he  turned  over  a  new  leaf, 
and  devoted  himself  to  his  studies  with  commendable 


THOMAS   CHALMERS.  383 

application,  especially  distinguishing  himself  in  mathe- 
matics. His  talents  appeared  in  his  work  as  never  be- 
fore. His  teachers  discovered  more  ability  than  they  had 
given  him  credit  for.  His  parents,  who  had  been  disap- 
pointed with  his  school-life,  were  happily  surprised  by  the 
proof  of  marked  ability  which  they  could  now  discover. 

When  he  was  fifteen  he  read  Edwards  "  On  the  Will," 
and  thought  it  was  the  greatest  work  ever  published. 
He  talked  about  nothing  else  for  weeks,  and  even 
months.  Its  influence  upon  his  future  life  proved  re- 
markable, as  it  introduced  him  to  a  course  of  reading 
and  study  better  suited  to  his  intellectual  development. 
The  next  vacation  he  spent  with  his  brother,  who  was 
settled  in  Liverpool,  and  discussed  with  him  Edwards 
"On  the  Will."  The  work  appears  to  have  kindled 
within  him  a  passion  for  writing  composition.  Hitherto 
he  had  given  little  or  no  attention  to  this  exercise ;  but 
from  this  time  he  pursued  it  with  a  sort  of  fascination. 
His  progress  in  the  art  was  phenomenal.  In  two  years 
he  was  not  inferior  as  a  writer  to  any  student  in  the 
institution,  and  he  found  inexpressible  delight  in  this 
use  of  his  pen.  It  has  been  claimed  that  the  style  of 
his  composition  then  was  very  much  like  his  style  in  the 
pulpit,  twenty  years  later,  when  he  was  classed  with  the 
most  honored  pulpit  orators  in  Scotland. 

About  the  same  time,  also,  he  became  an  enthusiastic 
member  of  the  University  Debating  Society.  He  had  a 
correct  idea  of  its  value,  and  engaged  in  debates  for  per- 
sonal advancement,  just  as  he  pursued  mathematics.  He 
improved  from  month  to  month,  so  as  to  attract  the  at- 
tention of  fellow-students.  As  a  debater  he  was  sharp, 
logical,  and  eloquent. 


384  TURNING   POINTS. 

At  nineteen  years  of  age  he  decided  to  become  a 
preacher,  although  he  does  not  appear  to  have  claimed 
conversion  in  the  sense  required  by  the  Scotch  Presbyte- 
rian Church.  He  had  studied  theology  critically,  and 
could  defend  all  the  doctrines  of  the  creed;  but  evi- 
dently was  destitute  of  that  experimental  knowledge  of 
the  gospel  which  the  Scotch  divines  insisted  upon. 
Nevertheless,  he  obtained  a  license  to  preach.  There 
was  some  opposition  to  granting  the  license,  on  account 
of  his  youth ;  and  doubtless  for  this  reason,  instead  of 
settling  as  pastor,  he  spent  the  next  two  years  in  Edin- 
burgh, where  he  attended  the  lectures  of  Dugald  Stew- 
art, Robinson,  Playfair,  and  other  professors  in  the 
university. 

Chalmers  was  now  twenty-three  years  of  age,  and  he 
was  settled  over  a  church  in  Kilmany  in  1803.  He  did 
not  give  himself  entirely  to  pastoral  work,  however; 
he  spent  half  of  his  time  in  studying  the  sciences,  and 
in  lecturing  upon  mathematics  and  chemistry  at  St. 
Andrews.  He  was  able  and  eloquent  in  the  pulpit,  but 
not  spiritual.  Some  hearers  thought  his  discourses  were 
more  intellectual  than  pious.  Many  of  his  people  com- 
plained that  his  heart  was  not  in  his  pastoral  work ;  this 
was  probably  true.  Yet  he  was  honored  and  beloved, 
and  his  great  talents  were  recognized. 

But  in  1809  a  change  came  over  him.  Overwork  and 
exposure  laid  him  upon  a  bed  of  sickness,  and  he  was 
brought  near  to  death.  For  some  time  his  life  was  de- 
spaired of.  For  weeks  the  malady  preyed  upon  his  con- 
stitution. For  him  it  was  a  serious,  and  at  the  same 
time  a  glad,  experience,  as  he  claimed  ever  afterwards. 
For  on  that  bed  of  sickness  he  had  a  new  Christian  ex- 


THOMAS   CHALMERS.  385 

perience.  He  saw  that  he  was  a  sinner,  as  he  had  never 
seen  it  before ;  and  he  hailed  Christ  as  a  Saviour  from 
sin  and  its  consequences,  and  gave  his  heart  to  him. 
He  was  a  new  man  and  minister  of  the  gospel.  He 
arose  from  that  sick-bed  thoroughly  consecrated  to  the 
work  of  the  ministry. 

That  sickness  proved  to  be  the  turning-point  of  his 
ministerial  life.  Never  afterwards  was  the  complaint 
uttered  that  he  was  more  intellectual  than  spiritual. 
He  returned  to  the  pulpit  with  new  power.  His  ser- 
mons were  imbued  with  the  divine  spirit.  He  seemed 
to  realize  that  he  was  the  mouthpiece  of  God,  and  his 
words  were  clothed  with  fire.  Henceforth  he  was  a 
flame  of  truth  in  Scotland,  and  continued  brighter  and 
brighter,  grander  and  grander,  until  his  work  was  done. 
It  was  always  his  declaration  that  the  almost  fatal  sick- 
ness did  it. 

The  author  of  his  biographical  sketch  in  the  "  Ameri- 
can Cyclopedia  "  says,  "  It  was  in  a  long  and  severe  ill- 
ness, which  brought  him  near  to  the  grave,  that  he  experi- 
enced a  great  spiritual  change.  Then,  for  the  first  time, 
he  saw  the  gospel  of  Christ  in  its  true  light,  and  he 
emerged  from  his  trials  with  deepened  views  of  the 
clerical  office,  declaring  that  the  history  of  Pascal  — 
who,  after  a  youth  signalized  by  profound  and  original 
speculations,  had  stopped  short  in  a  brilliant  career  of 
discovery,  resigned  the  splendors  of  literary  reputation, 
renounced  without  a  sigh  all  the  distinctions  which  are 
conferred  upon  genius,  only  to  devote  every  talent  and 
every  hour  to  the  defence  and  illustration  of  the  gospel 
—  was  superior  to  all  Greek  and  to  all  Roman  fame. 
On  resuming  his  duties,  he  displayed  a  fervor  in  the 


386  TURNING  POINTS. 

pulpit  and  in  his  household  visitations  which  was  new 
to  his  parishioners.  All  his  thoughts  were  tempered  by 
a  deep  sense  of  religion,  and  made  subservient  to  the 
highest  aims  of  life.  His  pulpit  eloquence  attracted 
listeners  from  a  great  distance,  and  made  him  famous 
through  the  South  of  Scotland.  He  now  ranked  with 
the  "  Evangelical "  party.  The  next  two  years  he  or- 
ganized his  parish  into  Bible  and  missionary  societies, 
with  a  view  to  providing  not  only  for  the  spiritual,  but 
also  for  the  intellectual  and  economic,  wants  of  every 
individual  in  it.  In  1815  he  was  invited  to  the  pastoral 
care  of  a  parish  in  Glasgow ;  and  during  the  eight  years 
of  his  residence  in  that  city  he  enjoyed  unrivalled  re- 
nown as  a  pulpit  orator.  His  Astronomical  Discoveries, 
a  series  of  weekly  lectures  on  the  connection  between 
the  discoveries  of  astronomy  and  the  Christian  revela- 
tion, were  published  in  1817,  and  rivalled  the  Waverley 
novels  in  popularity.  Within  a  year  nearly  twenty 
thousand  copies  were  sold.  His  fame  had,  meantime, 
spread  to  London,  where  he  preached  first  this  year. 
Though  a  time  of  high  political  excitement,  all  parties 
thronged  to  hear  him ;  and  judges  so  critical  as  Hazlitt, 
Wilberforce,  Canning,  Robert  Hall,  and  Foster,  could 
only  applaud.  Canning  was  moved  to  tears ;  and  Wil- 
berforce wrote  in  his  diary,  "  All  the  world  is  wild  about 
Dr.  Chalmers." 

Before  the  sickness  mentioned,  his  writings  were  pro- 
found, but  appealed  only  to  the  intellect.  So  many 
criticised  him  for  giving  more  attention  to  science  than 
religion,  that  he  published  a  pamphlet  to  prove  "  that 
the  prosecution  of  science  was  not  incompatible  with 
ministerial  duties  and  habits."  But  on  coming  out  of 


THOMAS   CttALMEliS.  387 

the  "  fiery  trial  of  sickness,"  lie  renounced  and  denounced 
the  position  taken  in  that  pamphlet.  Henceforth  he 
appealed  to  the  hearts  of  men  instead  of  their  heads, 
and  was  satisfied  by  the  fruits  of  his  labors  that  in 
this  way  only  does  the  gospel  become  "  the  power  of 
God  unto  salvation." 

Such  intellectual  and  spiritual  power  was  needed  in 
the  universities  to  inspire  and  prepare  young  men  for 
ministerial  work.  So  he  was  called  to  the  chair  of 
Moral  Philosophy  in  the  University  of  St.  Andrews, 
where  he  remained  five  years ;  in  which  time  he  issued 
his  lectures  on  "  Moral  Philosophy,"  and  "  Political 
Economy  in  Connection  with  the  Moral  Aspects  of 
Society."  Then  he  was  invited  to  fill  the  chair  of  The- 
ology in  the  University  of  Edinburgh,  where  he  remained 
fifteen  years,  in  the  meantime  his  fame  spreading  over 
both  the  Eastern  and  Western  continents. 

The  writings  of  Dr.  Chalmers  have  been  collected  and 
published  in  thirty-two  12mo  volumes,  a  remarkable 
summary  of  his  mental  and  moral  work  through  a  busy 
life.  And  yet  it  is  claimed  that  the  fervid  eloquence 
of  the  man,  permeated  by  his  deep  spiritual  temper  from 
the  time  he  left  his  bed  of  sickness,  touching  and  moving 
all  hearts  with  which  he  came  in  contact,  did  more  for 
the  religious  life  of  Scotland  than  all  his  writings. 

Dr.  Chalmers  died  at  Morningside,  near  Edinburgh, 
May  31,  1847.  Thus  closed,  the  career  of  one  of  the 
greatest  and  best  men  who  have  preached  the  gospel 
since  Paul,  the  great  apostle,  "  fought  the  fight  and  kept 
the  faith." 


388  TUHX1XG  POINTS. 


XLVIIL 

ROGER  SHERMAN. 

THE    MEMORANDUM    THAT    FORESHADOWED    THE    LAWYER 
AND    STATESMAN. 

THE  subject  of  this  paper  began  his  Avork-life,  like 
many  poor  boys,  a  shoemaker.  The  occupation  never 
hinders  an  aspiring  soul,  and  it  did  not  hinder  Roger 
Sherman.  He  was  born  in  Newton,  Mass.,  April  19, 
1721.  His  father  was  a  farmer,  whose  character  in- 
spired respect.  Like  most  farmers  of  that  day  and 
locality,  he  was  in  straitened  circumstances,  but  man- 
aged to  give  Roger  all  the  advantages  of  the  parish 
school.  In  his  boyhood,  Roger  manifested  a  thirst 
for  knowledge  ;  and,  as  soon  as  he  could  read,  improved 
his  time  in  making  the  contents  of  books  his  own. 
Books  were  scarce,  especially  books  written  for  the 
young:  but  it  made  little  difference  to  him  for  whom 
they  were  written ;  he  read  them  with  as  great  relish  as 
he  ate  his  meals. 

As  soon,  however,  as  he  was  old  enough  to  learn  a 
trade  (and  that  was  when  he  was  a  mere  boy),  he  was 
apprenticed  to  a  shoemaker,  according  to  the  custom  of 
that  day.  He  accepted  the  change  as  a  matter  of  course, 
and  proved  himself  a  quick  learner  and  a  faithful  ser- 
vant. He  was  fortunate  in  being  apprenticed  to  a  man 


ROGER   SHERMAtf.  889 

who  did  not  object  to  a  boy  who  loved  to  read  and  study ; 
for  Roger  continued  his  familiarity  with  books.  It  was 
the  one  enjoyment  that  kept  him  happy  and  cheerful. 
He  would  place  an  open  volume  so  that  he  could  read  it 
when  at  work  on  the  bench,  though  he  never  allowed 
the  habit  to  interfere  with  his  manual  labor.  An  occa- 
sional glance  at  the  open  page  would  enable  him  to 
read  several  pages  in  a  day ;  and,  what  was  far  better, 
the  limited  amount  read  proved  seed  for  thought  when 
he  was  driving  pegs. 

As  he  grew  older  he  studied  mathematics  and  philos- 
ophy in  this  way,  and  was  surprised  to  find  how  much 
he  could  accomplish  by  an  occasional  glance  at  the  book 
before  him.  His  employer  was  perfectly  satisfied  with 
his  progress  on  the  bench,  and  was  interested  in  him 
also  as  remarkable  for  his  thirst  for  knowledge. 

Roger's  father  died  just  about  the-  time  his  appren- 
ticeship closed ;  and  now  he  was  forced  to  act  as  the 
head  of  the  family  —  and  no  young  man  of  twenty  was 
ever  better  qualified  to  assume  the  responsibility  than 
he.  Continuing  to  work  at  his  trade  and  look  after  the 
farm,  he  filled  his  new  position  loyally.  His  love  for 
his  mother  was  greater  than  his  love  of  books,  and  that 
is  saying  a  great  deal ;  so  that  it  was  no  sacrifice  at  all 
for  him  to  act  in  this  responsible  relation. 

In  1743  Roger  thought  he  discovered  a  much  better 
opportunity  for .  his  business  in  New  Milford,  Conn., 
where  one  of  his  brothers  lived  ;  and  his  mother  acqui- 
esced in  his  decision,  and  the  family  removed  thither. 
He  opened  his  shop,  and  made  and  repaired  boots  and 
shoes,  as  he  did  in  Newton.  But  he  was  disappointed 
in  the  amount  of  business  secured  ;  it  was  smaller  than 


390  TURNING  POINTS. 

he  expected.  Therefore,  he  concluded  to  engage  in 
trade  with  his  brother.  In  this  they  were  successful; 
and  Roger's  intelligence  and  intellectual  acquisitions, 
together  with  his  unblemished  character,  won  for  him 
the  confidence  and  esteem  of  all  citizens.  He  had  pur- 
sued mathematics  with  more  interest,  perhaps,  than  any 
other  study,  and  now  he  found  daily  use  for  his  knowl- 
edge of  that  science.  The  office  of  county  surveyor 
was  an  important  one,  and  he  was  appointed  to  fill  it. 
He  had  given  considerable  attention  to  astronomy ;  and 
in  1748  a  publishing-house  in  New  York  City  employed 
him  to  furnish  the  astronomical  calculations  for  their 
almanac. 

He  married  in  1749 ;  and,  a  few  months  thereafter, 
an  unexpected  change  occurred  in  his  plans  that  decided 
his  future  great  career.  A  neighbor  had  fallen  into 
some  difficulty  about  his  property.  He  mentioned  his 
trouble  to  Sherman,  who  had  given  some  attention  to 
political  subjects,  as  well  as  law.  Being  eminently  a 
practical  man,  Sherman  had  much  knowledge  of  common 
law  ;  and  he  advised  his  neighbor,  explaining  to  him  the 
way  out  of  the  difficulty.  After  much  discussion,  he 
wrote  down  the  leading  points  of  the  case,  with  such 
opinions  relating  thereto  as  occurred  to  him,  and  said 
that  he  should  see  Mr.  —  —  in  a  few  days,  a  lawyer  in  a 
neighboring  town,  and  he  would  get  his  opinion.  He 
did  so ;  and  during  the  conversation  .he  had  frequent 
occasion  to  refer  to  his  notes.  Finally,  the  lawyer  told 
him  that,  if  he  would  leave  his  memorandum  with  him, 
he  would  look  up  the  case  and  report.  On  examining 
the  notes,  he  was  surprised  at  the  legal  talent  he  dis- 
covered. The  whole  case  was  substantially  stated  in 


ROGER   SHERMAN.  391 

the  memorandum.  No  lawyer  could  state  it  more  clearly 
or  directly.  The  author  of  those  notes  must  possess  a 
strong,  penetrating  mind,  he  thought;  and  he  ought  to 
be  a  lawyer,  instead  of  wasting  his  talents  on  shoemak- 
ing,  trading,  or  surveying. 

His  next  interview  with  Mr.  Sherman  was  a  very 
profitable  one  to  the  latter ;  for  it  started  him  out  upon 
a  new  life.  The  lawyer  advised  him  to  relinquish  all  of 
his  pursuits,  and  study  law,  and  be  admitted  to  the  bar 
as  soon  as  possible.  "  You  possess  the  qualities  for  a 
first-class  lawyer,  —  a  strong,  sharp,  clear-cut  intellect, 
so  necessary  in  settling  points  of  law,"  he  said  ;  and 
urged  him,  with  all  the  enthusiasm  of  a  personal  friend, 
to  fit  himself  for  the  bar.  Mr.  Sherman  was  not  antici- 
pating such  an  interview,  and  he  had  not  measured  his 
talents  in  that  way,  so  that  he  was  taken  by  surprise. 
However,  the  words  and  'earnestness  of  the  lawyer  made 
a  deep  impression  upon  his  mind,  and  he  promised  to 
consider  the  matter  seriously.  The  result  was,  that, 
after  canvassing  the  subject^  with  his  wife  and  mother, 
he  decided  to  become  a  lawyer,  and  at  once  began  his 
preparation.  In  1754  he  was  admitted  to  the  bar,  at 
thirty-three  years  of  age.  That  unplanned  and  unanti- 
cipated revelation  of  his  notes  on  the  case  proved  to  be 
the  most  important  event  of  his  life.  It  decided  his 
future  grand  career. 

The  next  year  after  he  was  admitted  to  the  bar  he 
was  elected  to  the  Colonial  Assembly,  and  was  also  made 
justice  of  the  peace  for  New  Milford.  In  1759  he  was 
made  judge  of  the  Court  of  Common  Pleas  for  Litchfield 
County,  five  years  after  he  was  admitted  to  the  bar.  In 
1701  he  removed  to  New  Haven,  where  the  same  ap- 


392  TURNING  POINTS. 

pointments  were  given  him;  and  he  was  also  made 
treasurer  of  Yale  College,  which  conferred  upon  him  the 
degree  of  Master  of  Arts  in  1765.  In  1766  he  was  ap- 
pointed judge  of  the  Superior  Court  of  Connecticut,  and 
the  same  year  was  elected  to  the  upper  house  of  the  As- 
sembly. He  was  judge  of  the  Superior  Court  twenty- 
three  years,  and  State  senator  nineteen.  His  rise  was 
rapid  and  sure.  He  filled  one  office  as  well  as  another. 
One  upward  bound  qualified  him  for  another.  And  yet 
he  had  not  reached  the  zenith  of  his  power  and  fame. 
It  was  not  until  the  country  approached  the  great  Revo- 
lutionary period  that  Roger  Sherman  appeared  in  his 
true  greatness.  He  was  a  born  statesman.  He  seemed 
to  take  in  the  situation  at  once,  his  country's  perils 
and  needs ;  so  that  he  became,  as  John  Adams  said, 
"  one  of  the  soundest  and  strongest  pillars  of  the  Rev- 
olution." 

In  1774  he  was  elected  a  delegate  to  the  Continental 
Congress,  and  was  one  of  the  most  able  and  useful  mem- 
bers of  that  body.  He  was  not  a  popular  speaker,  but 
commanded  the  respect  of  all  for  "  his  knowledge,  judg- 
ment, integrity,  and  devotion  to  duty."  As  proof  of 
this,  he  was  one  of  the  five  statesmen  appointed  by  that 
Congress  to  draft  the  Declaration  of  Independence.  His 
colleagues  upon  that  committee  were  John  Adams, 
Thomas  Jefferson,  Benjamin  Franklin,  and  Robert  Liv- 
ingston. To  the  close  of  the  struggle  for  American  In- 
dependence, Mr.  Sherman  was  ever  at  his  post.  His 
sound  judgment  was  frequently  called  into  requisition  in 
those  perilous  times,  and  his  patriotism  Avas  always  as 
reliable  as  his  word.  Thomas  Jefferson  said  of  him, 
"He  never  said  a  foolish  thing  in  his  life."  And  Na- 


ROGER   SHERMAN.  393 

thaniel  Mason  wrote,  "  Roger  Sherman  Las  more  common- 
sense  than  any  man  I  ever  knew."  Common-sense 
proved  the  best  kind  of  sense  for  those  Revolutionary 
times.  It  was  the  kind  of  sense  that  triumphed  in  that 
mighty  contest.  It  has  been  so  ever  since ;  common- 
sense  has  made  our  land  what  it  is. 

At  the  close  of  the  Revolution,  in  1784,  Mr.  Sherman 
was  elected  mayor  of  New  Haven,  and  continued  in  that 
office  nine  years,  when  he  died.  He  was  a  prominent 
member  of  the  convention  to  draft  a  constitution  for  the 
United  States  in  1787 ;  and  it  was  through  his  influ- 
ence chiefly  that  Connecticut  voted  to  adopt  it.  Of  that 
Constitution  he  wrote  to  a  friend,  "  Perhaps  a  better 
constitution  could  not  be  made  upon  mere  speculation. 
If,  upon  experience,  it  should  be  found  to  be  deficient,  it 
provides  an  easy  and  peaceable  mode  of  making  amend- 
ments ;  but  if  the  Constitution  should  be  adopted,  and 
the  several  States  choose  some  of  the  wisest  and  best 
men,  from  time  to  time,  to  administer  the  government,  I 
believe  it  will  not  want  any  amendment.  I  hope  that 
kind  Providence,  which  guarded  these  States  th'rough  a 
dangerous  and  distressing  war  to  peace  and  liberty,  will 
still  watch  over  them,  and  guide  them  in  the  way  of 
safety." 

Mr.  Sherman  died  in  New  Haven,  July  23,  1793. 
His  Christian  character  shone  brighter  and  brighter  to 
the  perfect  day.  He  made  a  profession  of  religion  in  his 
youth,  and  adorned  it  to  the  day  of  his  death.  He  was 
as  true  a  Christian  in  office  as  out,  as  consistent  abroad 
as  at  home.  The  Bible  was  his  daily  companion.  He 
studied  it  as  the  chart  of  life.  He  purchased  a  copy  of 
the  Scriptures  with  the  opening  of  every  session  of  Con- 


394  TURNING  POINTS. 

gress,  read  it  daily,  and  then  presented  it  to  one  of  his 
children  on  returning  home.  His  religion  was  business, 
not  formality,  or  mere  profession.  It  was  everything  to 
him ;  and  his  faith  in  the  new-born  republic  was  really 
because  the  Christian  religion  was  its  foundation. 


PATRICK    HENRY. 


PATRICK  HENRY.  395 


XLIX. 

PATRICK  HENRY. 

THE    DECISION    THAT    CONVERTED    THE    IDLER    INTO    THE 
ORATOR. 

PATRICK  HENRY  lived  when  stirring  times  tried 
men's  souls.  Patriotism  was  the  regal  quality  of  the 
day,  and  was  suited  to  develop  the  highest  elements  of 
manhood.  Self-made  men  were  common  and  strong. 
Great  men  sprung  up  in  unexpected  quarters  —  extem- 
poraneous achievers,  who  never  dreamed  of  power  until 
they  found  themselves  leaders.  Patrick  Henry  was 
one  of  them,  born  at  Studley,  Hanover  County,  Va., 
May  29,  1736.  His  father  was  John  Henry,  a  Scotch- 
man, whose  ancestors  were  relatives  of  Lord  Brougham. 
He  came  to  Virginia  from  Scotland  six  years  before 
Patrick  was  born.  He  had  nine  children. 

Soon  after  the  birth  of  Patrick,  the  family  removed 
to  another  neighborhood,  known  then  as  Mount  Brilliant. 
Mr.  Henry  was  in  comfortable  circumstances  as  to  prop- 
erty, and  was  quite  able  to  give  his  son  a  classical  edu- 
cation. The  family  lived  in  a  rather  aristocratic  way ; 
and  the  mother  appears  to  have  found  children  an  en- 
cumbrance, for  she  sent  Patrick  away  to  school  at  a  very 
early  age,  "  to  keep  him  out  of  mischief ;  "  that  is,  out  of 
mischief  at  home,  for  it  was  not  possible  to  control  his 


396  TURNING  POINTS. 

mischievous  disposition  anywhere.  He  continued  in  this 
school  until  he  was  ten  years  old,  when  he  was  taken 
home  to  pursue  his  studies  under  the  tuition  of  his 
father,  who  was  well  educated,  and  practised  law. 

Patrick  was  quick  to  learn  —  quicker  at  that  than  he 
was  to  obey ;  and  so,  at  ten,  he  was  well  advanced  in 
common  branches,  but  as  full  of  "  mischief  "  as  a  nut  is 
full  of  meat.  He  Avas  required  to  study  Latin  and 
Greek ;  but  the  study  he  devoted  to  these  classics  was 
not  enough  to  impair  the  health  of  any  boy.  His  father 
found  it  impossible  to  make  him  studious ;  and  the  lon- 
ger he  studied,  the  more  he  disliked  it.  Nevertheless, 
his  father  kept  him  at  it  until  Patrick  was  fifteen  years 
of  age,  when  he  relinquished  his  purpose  in  utter  dis- 
comfiture. 

Patrick  had  grown  like  a  weed,  and  was  a  tall,  awk- 
ward, unwieldy  fellow,  caring  nothing  about  dress  or 
manners.  He  was  idle,  too,  hating  work  as  heartily  as 
he  did  Latin  and  Greek,  doing  nothing  but  "  mischief  " 
with  all  his  heart.  He  loved  fishing  and  hunting,  loaf- 
ing and  carousing,  and  was  an  expert  on  this  line  of  life. 
What  could  be  done  with  the  boy  ?  That  was  the  ques- 
tion, a  knotty  one  for  even  his  lawyer-father  to  answer. 
He  did  not  seem  to  be  fitted  for  any  occupation  in  par- 
ticular :  occupation  was  not  what  he  wranted ;  he  was 
hankering  for  its  opposite.  Nevertheless,  he  must  do 
something ;  and,  if  possible,  he  must  be  something. 

In  these  circumstances  his  father  decided  to  make 
him  a  trader,  and  placed  him  in  the  store  of  a  neighbor, 
to  learn  the  business.  At  the  expiration  of  a  year  his 
father  established  him  in  a  variety  store,  in  company 
with  his  brother  William.  Neither  of  them  possessed 


PATRICK  HENRY.  397 

tact  for  trade ;  and  in  less  than  a  year  the  company 
failed.  Patrick  withdrew,  and  William  remained  to 
settle  up  the  business,  which  was  in  a  snarl.  It  took 
him  three  times  as  long  to  bring  the  concern  to  a  satis- 
factory settlement  as  it  did  to  start  and  fail ;  he  was 
three  years  about  it.  Patrick  drew  around  him  in  the 
store  the  loosest  class  of  characters  in  town.  He  could 
play  the  violin  and  flute  much  better  than  he  could 
traffic  ;  and  this,  together  with  his  social  qualities,  at- 
tracted this  class  to  the  store. 

At  the  age  of  eighteen  he  fell  in  love  with  Sarah 
Skelton,  a  farmer's  daughter  in  the  neighborhood,  and 
married  her,  his  parents  consenting  only  because  they 
believed  that  in  wedlock  there  might  be  a  better  chance 
to  make  a  man  of  him.  His  father  and  father-in-law 
decided  to  make  a  farmer  of  him  now,  and  purchased  a 
small  farm,  on  which  he  settled.  But  he  was  too  lazy  to 
work,  and,  after  two  years,  sold  his  farm  at  a  sacrifice, 
and  returned  to  mercantile  business.  But  this  last  ven- 
ture turned  out  even  worse  than  the  first ;  and  he  was 
left  penniless  and  homeless,  with  a  wife  on  his  hands 
to  support.  He  had  absolutely  no  way  of  earning  a  cent, 
and  his  wife  returned  to  her  parents. 

Patrick  Henry  was  twenty-four  years  old  at  this  time, 
and  his  relatives  had  exhausted  their  patience  in  assist- 
ing him.  He  was  an  amiable,  jolly  fellow,  and,  after 
his  marriage,  acquired  a  moderate  love  of  reading.  But 
now  his  prospects  were  as  unfavorable  as  possible.  His 
father-in-law  lived  at  Hanover  Court  House,  where  he 
kept  a  hotel ;  and  he  sent  for  Patrick  to  come  and  dwell 
with  him,  with  his  wife.  The  latter  lost  no  time  in 
becoming  a  member  of  Mr.  Skelton's  family,  to  make 


398  TURNING  POINTS. 

himself  useful  as  bartender  and  general  assistant.  It 
was  with  no  idea  that  his  son-in-law  would  ever  amount 
to  much  that  Mr.  Skelton  invited  him  to  his  home.  He 
expected  to  support  him  in  the  future. 

But  this  indolent,  uncouth,  shiftless  young  man  was 
not  as  worthless  as  he  seemed  to  be.  When  a  young 
man  brings  up  at  a  bar,  whether  proprietor  or  customer, 
he  has  reached  about  the  last  place  where  there  is  hope. 
But  it  was  not  so  with  young  Henry.  He  had  never 
filled  a  place  before  from  which  he  could  go  up  higher, 
for  the  reason  that  he  was  never  in  a  place  before  that 
appealed  directly  to  the  best  things  in  him.  Here  he 
met  many  lawyers,  small  and  great.  They  were  patrons 
of  the  hotel,  and  naturally  met  at  the  bar.  He  con- 
versed with  them  upon  law-matters.  He  listened  to 
some  of  them  in  the  court-room.  That  was  an  age  that 
set  a  high  value  \ipon  legal  ability.  Eloquence  at 
the  bar  was  appreciated  and  extolled.  Patrick  Henry 
caught  the  enthusiasm  over  legal  talents,  and  began  to 
ask  if  he  could  not  become  a  lawyer.  The  legal  gentle- 
men who  knew  him  liked  him,  and  they  encouraged  him 
to  study  law,  and  enter  the  profession.  Mr.  Skelton  did 
not  object,  thinking,  no  doubt,  that  he  might  as  well  try 
law  as  anything.  That  he  had  discovered  anything  in 
him  to  indicate  ability  for  practice  at  the  bar,  except  at 
the  bar  in  the  hotel,  was  not  true.  He  was  willing  that 
Patrick  should  try  to  be  somebody,  though  he  failed 
every  time. 

This  was  Patrick  Henry's  one  chance  of  his  lifetime. 
He  did  not  know  it,  of  course,  nor  any  one  of  his  friends. 
His  next  step  was  to  go  up  higher,  though  it  scarcely 
seemed  possible  to  relatives  who  had  been  disappointed 


PATRICK  HENRY.  399 

so  many  times.  But  he  decided  to  become  a  lawyer, 
and  began  his  preparation  with  a  zeal  that  never  charac- 
terized him  before  in  anything.  He  studied  six  weeks 
only,  but  they  were  weeks  of  the  closest  application; 
-  and  then  he  applied  for  a  lawyer's  license.  Strange  to 
say,  he  passed  the  examination  readily,  and  the  license 
was  granted.  Probably  his  knowledge  of  human  nature, 
which  every  acquaintance  recognized,  proved  an  assis- 
tance to  him.  Perhaps,  also,  this  knowledge  had  en- 
abled him  to  lay  up  much  more  information  than  friends 
had  credited  him  with.  Be  that  as  it  may,  in  this  in- 
credibly brief  period  he  fitted  himself  for  the  bar,  and 
became  a  practitioner. 

What  follows  will  prove  that  here  he  turned  into  the 
way  of  success  and  distinction.  At  last  the  change 
came  to  him, — -the  crisis  of  his  life,  —  and  he  began  a 
new  existence  really  for  himself  and  a  grateful  posterity. 
Three  years  from  the  time  he  started  in  the  law 
he  was  counsel  for  the  planters  in  the  celebrated  "  Par- 
sons' Cause."  The  Church  of  England  was  the  legal 
church  establishment ;  and  the  Assembly  of  Virginia  had 
fixed  the  salary  of  ministers  by  law  at  sixteen  thousand 
pounds  of  tobacco,  or  six  hundred  and  forty  dollars  in 
cash.  There  came  a  time  when  tobacco  was  much 
higher,  and  would  bring  in  the  market  much  more  than 
the  six  hundred  and  forty  dollars ;  and  the  clergy  took 
the  ground  that  this  rise  in  value  should  inure  to  their 
advantage.  The  outcome  was  a  lawsuit ;  and  an  eminent 
lawyer,  with  Patrick  Henry,  were  the  counsel  for  the 
planters  against  the  clergy.  The  importance  and  prom- 
inence of  the  case  caused  Henry  to  study  it  critically, 
that  his  first  appearance  in  a  notable  suit  might  prove 


400  TURNING  POINTS. 

advantageous  to  him.  But  they  lost  the  case ;  the  clergy 
won.  There  remained,  however,  the  question  of  dam- 
ages to  be  decided;  and  the  court  adjourned  to  Dec.  1, 
1763.  At  this  time  Henry  was  to  make  the  plea;  and 
it  was  under  peculiar  circumstances,  for  his  father  was 
presiding  judge,  and  his  uncle,  the  Kev.  Patrick  Henry, 
for  whom  he  was  named,  was  one  of  the  clergymen  to  be 
opposed. 

Henry  rose  with  fear  and  trembling,  and  stumbled 
through  the  opening  of  his  plea,  appearing  aAvkward  and 
embarrassed ;  but  afterwards  he  warmed  with  his  subject, 
and  struck  out  into  such  a  flood  of  impassioned  eloquence, 
as  listeners  never  heard  before.  Wirt  says,  in  his  biog- 
raphy of  Henry,  "  The  people,  whose  countenances  had 
fallen  as  he  rose,  had  heard  but  a  few  sentences  before 
they  began  to  look  up ;  then  to  look  at  each  other  with 
surprise,  as  if  doubting  the  evidence  of  their  own  senses ; 
then,  attracted  by  some  strong  gesture,  struck  by  some 
majestic  attitude,  fascinated  by  the  spell  of  his  eye,  the 
charm  of  his  emphasis,  and  the  varied  and  commanding 
expression  of  his  counteuence,  they  could  look  away  no 
more.  In  less  tlian  twenty  minutes  they  might  be  seen 
in  every  part  of  the  house,  on  every  bench,  in  every  win- 
dow, stooping  forward  from  their  stands  in  death-like 
silence,  their  features  fixed  in  amazement  and  awe,  all 
their  senses  listening  and  riveted  upon  the  speaker,  as 
if  to  catch  the  last  strain  of  some  heavenly  visitant." 

He  closed  his  plea.     The  court  assessed  the  damages 

—  "one  penny.''      The   clergy   were   beaten.     Henry's 

burning   eloquence   did   it.      The   audience   shook   the 

court-house  with  applause.     The  planters  were  wild  with 

enthusiasm,  and  seized  the  young  orator,  and  bore  him 


PATRICK  HENRY.  401 

upon  their  shoulders  out  of  the  court-house.  That  plea 
won  Henry's  reputation  for  life. 

From  that  time  Patrick  Henry  was  crowded  with  bus- 
iness. He  came  to  the  front,  also,  as  a  public  man.  He 
was  elected  member  of  the  House  of  Burgesses,  and  was 
consulted  upon  every  great  question  of  public  good.  As 
the  times  grew  stormy  under  the  British  yoke,  and  Amer- 
icans began  to  talk  of  independence,  Henry's  statesman- 
ship and  eloquence  played  a  prominent  part  in  achieving 
the  results.  He  was  under  forty  years  of  age  when  the 
Declaration  of  Independence  was  proclaimed  ;  and  yet 
he  was  second  to  no  patriot  in  his  eloquence  and  infliir 
ence.  On  the  29th  day  of  May,  1765,  which  was  his 
twenty-ninth  birthday,  he  surprised  the  House  of  Bur- 
gesses by  his  fearless  denunciation  of  the  Stamp  Act  as 
"  unconstitutional,  and  subversive  of  British  and  Ameri- 
can liberty."  It  was  an  unpremeditated  assault,  a  purely 
extemporaneous  speech,  but  of  such  eloquence  and 
power,  that  the  celebrated  George  Mason,  who  heard 
him  for  the  first  time,  wrote,  — 

"  He  is  by  far  the  most  powerful  speaker  I  ever  heard. 
Every  word  he  says  not  only  engages,  but  commands, 
the  attention,  and  your  passions  are  no  longer  your  own 
when  he  addresses  them.  But  his  eloquence  is  the 
smallest  part  of  his  merit.  He  is,  in  my  opinion,  the 
first  man  upon  this  continent,  as  well  in  abilities  as  pub- 
lic virtues;  and  had  he  lived  in  Rome  about  the  time  of 
the  First  Punic  War,  when  the  Roman  people  had  arrived 
at  their  meridian  glory,  and  their  virtues  not  tarnished, 
Mr.  Henry's  talents  must  have  put  him  at  the  head  of 
that  glorious  commonwealth." 

We  will  not  pursue  his  public  career,  but  only  quote 


402  TURNING   POINTS.  . 

the  closing  paragraph  of  that  speech  which  he  made  in 
March,  1775,  perhaps  the  most  eloquent  speech  ever 
made  on  this  continent  —  an  appeal  to  prepare  for  war 
at  any  sacrifice. 

"  If  we  mean  not  basely  to  abandon  the  noble  struggle 
in  which  we  have  been  so  long  engaged,  and  which  we 
have  pledged  ourselves  never  to  abandon  until  the  glori- 
ous object  of  our  contest  shall  be  obtained,  we  must 
fight !  I  repeat  it,  sir,  we  must  fight !  An  appeal  to 
arms  and  the  God  of  Hosts  is  all  that  is  left  us.  There 
is  no  retreat  but  in  submission  and  slavery.  Our  chains 
are  forged.  Their  clanking  may  be  heard  on  the  plains 
of  Boston.  The  war  is  inevitable,  and  let  it  come  !  I 
repeat  it,  sir,  let  it  come !  It  is  vain,  sir,  to  extenuate 
the  matter.  Gentlemen  may  cry  peace !  peace !  but 
there  is  no  peace.  The  Avar  is  actually  begun.  The 
next  gale  that  sweeps  from  the  north  will  bring  to  our 
ears  the  clash  of  resounding  arms.  Our  brethren  are 
already  in  the  field.  AYhy  stand  we  here  idle  ?  What 
is  it  that  gentlemen  wish  ?  What  would  they  have  ? 
Is  life  so  dear,  or  peace  so  sweet,  as  to  be  purchased  at 
the  price  of  chains  and  slavery  ?  Forbid  it,  Almighty 
God  !  I  know  not  what  course  others  may  take,  but  as 
for  me,  give  me  liberty,  or  give  me  death !  " 

Patrick  Henry  died  June  6,  1799.  Thus  closed  the 
career  of  one  of  the  most  remarkable  men  who  ever 
lived,  "the  child"  in  no  sense  being  "father  of  the 
man."  He  died  a  patriot,  orator,  statesman,  Christian ! 


ELI   WHITNEY.  403 


L. 

ELI  WHITNEY. 

THE    CONVERSATION    THAT    LED    HIM    TO    INVENT    THE 
COTTON    GIN. 

MANY  inventions  owe  their  existence  to  a  mere  hint. 
Genius  often  uses  a  suggestion  to  make  a  great  achieve- 
ment. It  is  on  the  alert  for  such  things.  Eli  Whitney 
was  called  a  "  mechanical  genius  "  even  in  his  boyhood. 
He  found  great  pleasure  in  studying  machinery,  and 
everything  else  of  curious  construction  and  difficult  to 
manufacture.  He  was  born  in  Westborough,  Mass., 
Dec.  8, 1765.  His  father  was  a  farmer  of  much  influence 
in  the  town,  and  a  man  of  marked  ingenuity.  He  had  a 
workshop  in  Avhich  he  repaired  agricultural  implements, 
and  sometimes  made  wheels  and  chairs.  In  this  shop 
Eli  learned  to  handle  tools  at  an  early  age.  He  readily 
acquired  a  knowledge  of  such  things,  and  used  that 
knowledge  in  the  manufacture  of  toy-carts,  sleds,  kites, 
traps,  and  other  articles.  He  was  known  in  the  neigh- 
borhood as  ingenious  and  handy  at  work.  He  made  a 
violin  when  he  was  twelve  years  of  age,  a  handsome 
instrument,  of  good  tone,  and  well  finished.  This  proof 
of  his  skill  surprised  everybody  who  heard  of  it.  Peo- 
ple came  from  quite  a  distance  to  see  the  violin  that 
was  made  by  a  boy  of  twelve  years.  From  that  time 


404  TURNING  POINTS. 

he  did  quite  a  profitable  business  in  repairing  violins 
and  other  musical  instruments  for  people. 

His  father's  watch  had  great  attractions  for  him.  He 
wanted  to  examine  it ;  but  he  knew  that  it  would  be 
impossible  to  get  permission,  so  he  did  not  ask  his 
father,  but  lived  on,  wishing  that  he  could  look  into  it. 
One  Sunday  morning,  when  he  could  withstand  the 
temptation  no  longer,  he  feigned  illness,  so  that  he 
would  not  be  obliged  to  go  to  meeting  with  his  parents. 
No  sooner  were  they  on  the  way  to  meeting  than  he 
took  down  the  watch,  and  carefully  opened  and  exam- 
ined it.  Nor  did  he  stop  there ;  he  was  tempted  to  take 
it  to  pieces,  and  he  did.  It  was  about  the  happiest 
moment  of  his  life  when  he  learned  just  how  that  deli- 
cate machinery  operated.  That  he  did  understand  it  is 
evident  from  the  fact  that  he  put  the  Avatch  together 
correctly,  so  that  his  father  never  knew  of  the  fact  until 
Eli  told  him  after  he  attained  manhood.  . 

Nails  were  very  scarce  at  that  day,  —  time  of  the  Rev- 
olution ;  and  Eli,  at  sixteen  years  of  age,  conceived  the 
idea  of  becoming  a  nail-manufacturer.  He  could  carry 
on  the  business  in  his  father's  workshop.  The  proposi- 
tion pleased  his  father;  and  he" procured  proper  tools, 
and  set  the  boy  to  work.  In  the  summer  he  worked 
with  his  father  on  the  farm,  but  manufactured  nails  in 
the  winter.  For  two  winters  he  followed  this  business 
with  the  utmost  energy  and  industry,  and  made  it  profit- 
able. After  two  years  the  nail-trade  became  poor,  and 
he  turned  his  attention  to  making  long  pins  for  fasten- 
ing ladies'  bonnets.  He  made  walking-canes  also.  He 
was  always  busy,  never  had  any  idle  moments,  and 
never  wanted  any.  Unlike  most  boys,  he  loved  work 
for  its  own  sake. 


ELI  WHITNEY.  405 

From  boyhood  Eli  desired  an  education,  but  his  father 
was  able  to  give  him  only  such  school  opportunities  as 
the  town  afforded.  He  appreciated  Eli's  love  of  knowl- 
edge, and  gladly  would  have  seconded  all  his  wishes  in 
that  direction.  He  approved  of  his  disposition  to  im- 
prove leisure  time  at  home,  particularly  in  the  evening. 
Meagre  as  his  opportunities  were,  however,  Eli  acquired 
a  very  good  education,  and  at  twenty  he  taught  school 
in  the  winter  season.  His  desire  for  a  college  course 
ripened  into  a  determination,  at  this  time,  to  obtain  it. 
Many  tried  to  dissuade  him  from  this  purpose,  saying, 
"  It  is  a  great  pity  to  spoil  such  ingenuity  by  going  to 
college."  But  Eli  thought  otherwise.  He  believed  that 
even  a  mechanic  could  not  possess  too  much  learning  — 
that  mechanical  genius  is  benefited  by  mental  culture. 
By  husbanding  his  resources,  earned  by  teaching  school 
and  manual  labor,  he  was  able  to  pay  his  bills  in  prepar- 
ing for  college  under  Dr.  Goodrich,  of  Durham,  Conn., 
and  entered  Yale  when  he  was  twenty-four.  His  college 
expenses  were  paid  by  arranging  with  his  father  to  bor- 
row the  money  and  loan  it  to  him,  for  which  Eli  gave 
his  note. 

He  was  a  close,  industrious  student,  and  stood  well  in 
his  class.  He  excelled  in  mathematics  and  mechanics, 
although  his  application  secured  good  standing  for  him 
in  the  classics.  On  one  occasion  his  mechanical  inge- 
nuity served  him  a  good  purpose.  Some  of  the  philo- 
sophical apparatus  needed  repairs,  and  the  professor  was 
going  to  send  it  away.  On  learning  of  this  purpose,  Eli 
offered  to  repair  the  apparatus;  and  he  did  it  to  the 
satisfaction  of  the  faculty.  He  was  graduated  in  1792, 
having  completed  his  college  course  in  three  years. 


406  TURNING   POINTS. 

Some  time  before  the  close  of  his  college  course  he 
decided  to  go  South  as  a  teacher.  At  that  time  many 
college  graduates  became  teachers  iu  the  Southern  States, 
mostly  private  tutors  in  wealthy  families.  Eli  had  par- 
tially arranged  for  a  situation  before  his  graduation, 
and  he  sailed  for  Savannah  a  few  weeks  after  leaving 
college.  On  board  the  vessel  was  Mrs.  Greene,  the  wife 
of  General  Nathanael  Greene,  with  whom  he  formed  an 
agreeable  acquaintance.  On  reaching  his  destination, 
he  found  that  the  situation  he  expected  to  have  was 
filled  by  another,  and  he  was  left  in  a  sad  plight.  With- 
out money,  friends,  or  occupation,  he  scarcely  knew 
what  to  do ;  but,  on  reporting  to  Mrs.  Greene,  she  in- 
vited him  to  take  up  his  abode  with  them,  and  recom- 
mended him  to  commence  the  study  of  law.  Eli 
accepted  the  invitation  gratefully,  and  thereby  turned 
into  the  Avay  of  usefulness  and  renown. 

Mrs.  Greene  was  a  fashionable,  though  Christian,  lady, 
and  lived  in  the  style  observed  by  the  wealthy  people  of 
the  South.  She  was  making  a  piece  of  embroidery  in  a 
tambour-frame,  and  complained  that  it  broke  the  threads 
of  the  work.  Within  a  short  time  Eli  brought  her  an- 
other frame,  constructed  on  a  different  plan,  and  it 
worked  to  a  charm ;  the  threads  of  her  work  did  riot 
break  any  more.  Again  and  again  he  surprised  the 
family  by  some  such  proof  of  his  mechanical  genius. 
One  day  a  conversation  about  the  cotton-crop  sprang  up 
with  some  guests  in  the  family.  One  of  the  number  la- 
mented that  there  was  no  mechanical  device  for  separat- 
ing the  seed  from  the  green  cotton,  thereby  largely 
increasing  the  product  of  labor  by  increasing  the  profits. 
"  Gentlemen,"  said  Mrs.  Greene,  "  my  young  friend 


ELI    WHITNEY.  407 

here,  Mr.  Whitney,  can  make  almost  anything ;  perhaps 
he  can  make  that  kind  of  a  machine." 

Subsequently  she  discussed  the  topic  with  Whitney; 
and  the  result  was  that  he  decided  to  make  the  trial.  A 
room  in  the  basement  of  the  house  was  assigned  to  him, 
and  he  proceeded  to  business.  First,  he  was  obliged  to 
manufacture  his  own  tools.  Next,  to  obtain  a  specimen 
of  cotton  and  the  seed  unseparated ;  for  he  had  never 
seen  either,  and  it  was  not  the  season  of  cotton-growing. 
But  he  secured  his  tools  and  samples  of  cotton,  and  went 
to  work  with  the  devotion  of  an  entlrasiast.  It  was  the 
work  of  several  months ;  but  near  the  close  of  the  fol- 
lowing winter  the  machine  was  ready  to  exhibit  in  a 
temporary  building  erected  for  the  purpose  on  Mrs. 
Greene's  grounds.  She  invited  quite  a  number  of  prom- 
inent men  from  different  parts  of  the  State  to  examine 
the  cotton-gin  on  a  certain  day.  All  of  them  were  sur- 
prised that  such  a  machine  was  possible.  It  was  won- 
derful. It  would  cause  a  revolution  in  the  South.  Now 
the  "  short  staple  "  cotton  could  be  raised  on  the  uplands 
of  Georgia,  and,  indeed,  throughout  the  South,  to  any 
extent.  Hitherto  the  expense  of  separating  its  seed 
from  the  cotton  was  so  great  that  there  was  no  profit  in 
raising  it.  One  laborer  could  separate  only  a  pound  in 
a  day.  With  the  machine,  hundreds  of  pounds  in  a  day 
could  be  separated. 

The  news  of  the  wonderful  machine  spread  widely. 
Expectation  increased  a  hundred-fold.  Men  prophesied 
the  great  things  that  would  be  done,  —  the  immense  in- 
crease of  the  cotton-crop  and  fortunes  accumulated. 
The  price  of  cotton  fabrics,  too,  would  be  reduced,  so  that 
the  poorest  families  could  use  them.  That  the  people 


408  TURNING   POINTS. 

were  not  extravagant  in  their  expectations  is  clear  from 
the  following  facts.  The  cotton-gin  was  completed  in 
1793.  In  1791  the  United  States  exported  less  than 
twenty  thousand  pounds  of  cotton.  The  production  in- 
creased so  rapidly  that  in  1828  the  amount  of  cotton 
gathered  was  tico  hundred  and  seventy  MILLION  pounds ; 
and  in  1839  the  AMOUNT  WAS  SEVEN  HUNDRED  AND 

NINETY  MILLIONS,  FOUR  HUNDRED  AND  SEVENTY-NINE 
THOUSAND,  TWO  HUNDRED  AND  SEVENTY-FIVE  POUNDS. 

The  increase  in  its  use,  and  reduction  of  its  price,  were 
in  proportion  to  the  increase  of  production.  Lowell  and 
Manchester  would  not  have  been  possible  without  the 
cotton-gin.  In  1815  the  lowest  price  for  cotton  cloth 
was  thirty  cents  a  yard.  In  1830  it  was  ten,  and  in 
1840,  eight.  Xow  it  is  five  cents  a  yard.  The  cotton- 
gin  did  it. 

Whitney  entered  into  partnership  with  one  Miller  and 
Mrs.  Greene  to  manufacture  the  machine,  agreeing  to 
share  the  profits  between  them.  Miller  and  Mrs.  Greene 
provided  the  money.  But,  before  the  preparation  for 
making  the  machine  was  completed,  his  model  was 
stolen ;  and,  by  the  time  Whitney  was  ready  to  turn  out 
the  machine,  several  machines  of  the  same  kind  were  on 
the  market.  The  model  was  stolen  for  this  purpose. 
Whitney  adopted  prompt  measures  to  defend  his  own 
rights  in  the  courts,  and  to  suppress  all  other  machines. 
Lawsuits  followed ;  and  through  the  power  of  money, 
the  devices  of  legal  talent,  and  the  injustice  of  courts, 
the  case  was  continued  through  years  of  litigation,  until 
Whitney  had  spent  all  but  his  courage  and  resolution  to 
fight  for  his  rights.  To  add  to  his  misfortunes,  his  fac- 
tory, in  Connecticut,  where  he  manufactured  his  ma- 


ELI    WHITNEY.  409 

chines,  was  burned.  But  his  pluck  and  perseverance 
remained.  His  partner,  too,  wrote  to  him,  "  It  shall 
never  be  said  that  we  have  lost  an  object  which  a  little 
perseverance  could  have  attained." 

It  was  claimed  that  "  more  than  sixty  suits  had  been 
instituted  in  Georgia  before  a  single  decision  on  the 
merits  of  his  claim  was  obtained."  But  finally  his 
claim  was  established ;  and  the  United  States  govern- 
ment, and  several  State  governments,  came  to  his  relief. 
The  benefit  of  the  invention  to  our  country  and  the 
world  was  too  great  and  manifest  for  duplicity  and  in- 
justice to  resist  always.  When  Whitney  renewed  his 
patent  of  the  cotton-gin,  in  1812,  it  was  said,  "  Estimat- 
ing the  value  of  the  labor  of  one  man  at  twenty  cents 
per  day,  the  whole  amount  which  had  been  received  by 
him  for  his  invention  was  not  equal  to  the  value  of  the 
labor  saved  in  one  hour  by  his  machines  then  in  use  in  the 
United  States."*  And  yet  six  years  after  his  invention 
was  patented  he  was  so  doubtful  about  obtaining  justice 
in  the  courts,  that  he  took  up  a  new  business  for  support, 
that  of  manufacturing  firearms  for  our  government. 

Now  for  the  turning-point.  It  was  down  in  Georgia, 
in  Mrs.  Greene's  house,  when  the  latter  suggested  that 
Mr.  Whitney  could  invent  a  machine  to  separate  seed 
from  the  cotton.  Had  Eli  followed  his  friends'  advice 
in  the  North,  to  remain  there,  and  follow  some  pursuit 
that  would  develop  his  mechanical  genius,  there  would 
have  been  no  cotton-gin.  Had  he  obtained  the  situation 
as  principal  of  the  school  in  Georgia  he  expected  to  fill 
when  he  left  home,  he  would  not  have  taken  up  his 
abode  with  Mrs.  Greene,  and  hence  would  not  have  re- 
ceived the  suggestion  about  the  machine.  The  country 


410  TURNING  POINTS. 

stood  in  great  need  of  the  cotton-gin,  and  it  was  indis- 
pensable to  assist  the  poor,  and  God  needed  it  in  his 
plans  of  human  progress ;  and  so  young  Whitney  was 
not  permitted  to  become  an  ingenious  mechanic  in  the 
North,  but  to  go  through  college,  and  remove  to  the 
South  as  a  teacher,  that  he  might  finally  take  up  his 
residence  in  the  only  place  where  the  great  invention 
could  be  conceived.  There  his  destiny  as  an  inventor 
was  settled. 

Eli  Whitney  died  in  New  Haven,  Jan.  8,  1828,  at 
sixty  years  of  age  —  not  an  old  man  by  any  means. 
Yet  he  had  lived  two  or  three  times  as  long  as  many 
men  of  culture,  counting  life  by  what  he  brought  to 
pass.  President  Day  of  Yale  College,  in  his  eulogy  at 
his  burial,  said,  "The  higher  qualities  of  his  mind,  in- 
stead of  unfitting  him  for  ordinary  duties,  were  firmly 
tempered  with  taste  and  judgment  in  the  business  of 
life.  His  manners  were  formed  by  an  extensive  inter- 
course with  the  best  society.  He  had  an  energy  of 
character  which  carried  him  through  difficulties  too  for- 
midable for  ordinary  minds.  With  these  advantages  he 
entered  on  the  career  of  life  ;  his  efforts  were  crowned 
with  success.  He  had  gained  the  respect  of  all  classes 
of  the  community ;  his  opinions  were  regarded  with 
peculiar  deference  by  the  man  of  science  as  well  as  the 
practical  artist.  His  large  and  liberal  views,  his  knowl- 
edge of  the  world,  the  wide  range  of  his  observations, 
his  public  spirit,  and  his  acts  of  beneficence,  had  given 
him  a  commanding  influence  in  society. 


University  of  California 

SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 

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Return  this  material  to  the  library  from  which  it  was  borrowed. 


QL  JAN  1  5  2002 

REC'DYRl 


Date  Due 

MAR  2  9  f 

162 

MAR  30 

1962 

EEB10 

19S4I 

NOV  2o 

1963 

j 

Library  Bureau  Cat.  No.  1137 

-I  FACILITY.. 


f 


